


Tumblr Collection

by sweetladyjane



Category: Deep Purple (Band), Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, Whitesnake (Band), classic rock - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 158
Words: 367,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetladyjane/pseuds/sweetladyjane
Summary: these are mostly requests from my Tumblr (@/lady-jane-revisited) & on here plus a few of my own ideas, most are nsfw and I'll add warnings/pairings at the beginning of each one.
Comments: 170
Kudos: 160





	1. tiny birthday fic (john bonham x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Bonham x reader  
> slight insinuation of nsfw

My head was still buzzing from everything that happened hours earlier. The bombastically wonderful concert and loudly cheering audience left my ears ringing. Once it was over, almost three hours later, the band and roadies whooped down the hallways to the dressing room then shouted to each other merrily as they went out to the waiting cars. The night was still young though, no matter how sleepy I felt.

Back at the hotel, everyone pranced down the hallways and sang half-drunkenly together in each other’s rooms. Jimmy and Jonesy were the first of the group to lock up in their rooms, either to sleep or privately cause mischief. The rest of our lively entourage spread around the entirety of the floor we were staying on – cartwheeling down the halls, having a few drinks, chatting, dancing to whatever was on the radio – until the hotel staff came up to tell us to be quieter or they’d throw us out. The party quieted down, apologizing for getting a bit out of hand.

John came up behind me, lifting me up in his strong arms as though I weighed less than a feather as my feet swung around in the air. I squealed in surprise and immediately clapped a hand over my mouth, remembering the staff’s warning. He bounded down the hall back to our room, a childish grin on his face as he opened the room door and kicked it shut behind us. My body was gently plopped down over the bed covers and he kissed me deeply, so deeply that I was pushed down into the blankets.

What ensued left me breathless, burning in the best possible ways, bruised along the base of my neck, and sleepily satisfied. After all the energy of the night, this is how it ended. My beloved drummer at rest and silent in contrast to his typical raucous nature. I took the chance to admire him: silent breaths escaping his parted lips in sleep, facial expression free of tension, dark brown hair matted at the sides of his face, his nose slightly twitching with occasional snores. Content was all I felt as I looked over him, my eyelids heavy as I slowly drifted off beside him.


	2. tiny birthday fic (john bonham x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> nsfw towards the end

I needed to get away from everything, even for just an hour or so. The weather was absolutely beautiful, but combined with my restlessness and need for a change of scenery, it only pushed me over the edge. Wearing just a loose dress with puffed sleeves and a billowy skirt, I took my car out on the road to set off. I didn’t really know where I was going. My intuition was a guide enough.

The radio was playing a Joni Mitchell song that only made me more certain about driving off to seek some open space like this. I rolled down the window to let the wind blow lightly against my skin as the sun beams warmed my face. Driving like this was so peaceful and freeing. Luckily, or maybe unfortunately, I found myself a little over thirty minutes later stopping at the side of an open road. There was a beautiful forested hillside going on and on distantly up to the horizon. It was perfect.

I locked the car after rolling the windows back up and went out, taking a deep breath of fresh air. It smelled of last night’s rain and the earthiness of fallen leaves along the dirt path through the woods. Sunlight streamed through the tree branches and a warm, late-spring breeze grazed my exposed skin. Birds chirped a cheerful song as I wandered along the path and gazed around my beautiful surroundings.

As the rough trail continued on, it opened up to a clearing amidst the dense treeline. I could look up to see tall hills in the distance and look back at where I’d come from. The long grasses swayed along with the wind and brushed the loose fabric of my dress along with it. Patches of light wildflowers and white daisies sprung up amidst the green grass, I picked a few as my fingers intertwined their stems into a crown of-sorts.

Now, I knew that all around here was just farmland, rural homes, and some forests. I thought I’d kept to the forest side of this region but the sight of a clearly-domesticated dog running up towards me quickly informed that I was probably trespassing. A masculine voice called the dog back and made my heart pang with fear of being caught. I started to turn and quickly dart through the grass towards the trail. All I could think was shitshitshitshitshit.

“Hey, are you lost up there?” The same man’s voice called out to me.

I turned, eyes wide as I faced the stranger.

“Uh, no, I just wandered off the path and accidentally came over this way. I’m sorry if I’ve trespassed.” I blurted out.

“You’re alright, love. Do you know your way back?” He asked, coming up over the small hillside up towards me.

I couldn’t help but hold my gaze over the man. Only a fool wouldn’t recognize him with the long blond curls, lopsided smile, distinctive dialect, jovial merle companion, not to mention his lack of a shirt. I stood in awe for a moment as he came up about three feet away from me and his smile grew at my silence.

He looked down at me and repeated his question: “You alright?”

“S-sorry, yeah, it’s just you’re- uh… well, I recognized you… and I’m sorry for invading your privacy.”

“I don’t mind, darlin’. Would you like to come back home with me, have some tea? I take it you’re not from around here.”

Unable to respond verbally, I just nodded eagerly and stepped over towards him. We walked down together, his hand brushing against mine a few times and my heart racing in my chest. He asked to see the flower crown in my hands and I playfully placed it up on his hair, the flowers looking like they’d grown amongst the curls. Strider ran along ahead of us with a smile and my host went off to chase him down towards his home. I giggled at his childish nature and ran after him.

He welcomed me in and sat me down on the couch while he put a kettle on in the kitchen. Strider hopped up besides me and rested his head in my lap, big blue eyes staring up at me. I pet his soft head and looked back up at his owner who came to sit on the opposite side of the couch.

“I’m at a disadvantage here. You know my name and I don’t know yours.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“That’s lovely, and quite suitable. Can I ask what you were doing out in the woods?”

“I just needed a change of scenery and drove out until I found someplace along the road to get some air. Guess the trail I found just happened to lead over to your land.” I shrugged.

“Lucky for me then.” He smiled. “Y'know, Strider seems to like you a lot.”

“He’s a very sweet dog.”

The golden-haired singer reached an arm over to play with a strand of my hair, “You’re a sweet girl, Y/N.”

Just as I was about to melt into a puddle, Robert got up from his seated position at the sound of the whistling tea kettle. I took the chance to catch my breath and leaned back against the couch cushions, patting the dog’s soft fur while trying to calm down. Maybe it was just my mind over-exaggerating after meeting him unexpectedly, but it seemed like he was coming onto me just a little bit.

“Love, d'ya want anything in your tea? Sugar, honey, lemon, milk?” He called from the other room.

“Honey, please.” I replied.

He came back momentarily and handed me a hot mug, warning me that it was just boiled. Strider hopped off the couch when Robert motioned for him to move as he moved into his spot. The room seemed about 10° hotter with our closer proximity and his blue eyes gazing at me so firmly as he continued to converse with me.

“You’re always welcome to come back over here, I can take you out to the lake further in the woods.” He offered.

“If you weren’t a world-renowned musician, I’d ask if you were plotting to kill me out there.”

“Maybe a petit-mort if you know French.” He replied quietly and cleared his throat. “It’s starting to get a little dark out, you might want to just bring your car over here and spend the night. It’s not very wise to go driving back home along these dark roads.”

“I’d hate to impose more than I alre-”

“Nonsense, it’s a pleasure for such a lovely lady. I couldn’t live knowing something unfortunate happened to you when I could offer you a place to stay instead.”

My generous host accompanied me back to where I’d parked my car and directed me to his driveway from the passenger’s seat. Once the car was re-parked nearer to his door, we went back inside. The sky had already gotten dark with faint streaks of orange and pink streaking through the horizon above the distant hills in a most picturesque sunset. It was far more beautiful to see it out here than in a city skyline crowded by tall buildings; I could understand why Robert chose to live in such a rural place besides for privacy. 

“I’ve got a spare bedroom, don’t worry.” He smiled, leading me down the hallway. “If you need anythin’ else just say so, I’ve been told my clothes look fairly feminine anyways.” 

“Thank you so much, you really didn’t need to offer me a place to stay.” 

“Enough with that already, it’s late and too risky to go home alone in the dark.” 

He opened up the door to the spare room and gestured for me to go inside. The whole room radiated comfort—the warm colors, homey furniture, yellow lighting from the lamps, and pile of pillows atop the thick blanket. Even the stacks of notes-to-self and books on the nightstand made it seem much more comfortably lived-in. I shyly walked inside past him and observed the details of my surroundings, stopping my gaze once I got around to where he stood at the doorway. 

“Is it alright?” 

“More than alright.” I smiled gratefully. 

“Ah, I like leavin’ the window open in here since it’s a smaller room and has a habit of getting stuffy sometimes. Bathroom’s on the opposite side of this one, it’s got plenty of towels and such. If you need anythin’ else, I’m just at the end of the hall.” He noted with a wave, shut the door, and left me in the privacy of the guest room. 

I sat at the foot of the bed momentarily while re-arranging some of the pillows and thinking about how odd today’s course of events was. This all came from me acting entirely on an impulse to escape the sameness of my house and just happened to choose to stop by the exact wooded area that bordered Robert Plant’s very home, not to mention run into him walking his dog. It was a strange enough occurrence, and yet I was apparently spending the night here too. Before I could extensively ruminate over all these thoughts, I decided to go take a shower. 

The house may not have been the epitome of luxury, but it was comfortable and not in want of anything. My kind host placed a plain shirt of his over a folded towel on the counter I assumed was meant for my overnight use. The warm water against my skin seemed to rinse off the odd giddy feeling that’d been in my stomach since I first heard his voice addressing me today and only increased as the day went on from that point. I felt calmer now but there were still butterflies in my stomach when I put his shirt on my body, the hem only reaching above mid-thigh. 

Once I’d neatly folded the towel and placed it back onto the counter, I went back into the spare room. Upon walking inside, I immediately noted how cold it was and went to close the window Robert told me about earlier. It started to rain outside too so the windowsill was slightly wet. I tried to yank it shut but the window wouldn’t budge, as though it rusted into place. Better yet, a startlingly loud clap of thunder boomed overhead followed almost instantly by a bright flash of lightning. I didn’t want to bug the man of the house who was already being so nice to me, and being half-dressed, but it appeared that I would have to. My feet padded down the hallway softly and I cautiously knocked on his bedroom door. 

“Come in, love.” His voice called from the other side of the door. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but the window’s stuck and it’s started to rain outside.” I explained as I came inside. 

He was lying on top of his bed with his golden hair splayed out over the pillows and an open book in his lap. There was the same glint in his blue eyes from before, only softer now in the dim lighting. A sleepy Strider laid at his side. The nightstand beside his bed was crowded with the turquoise jewelry he’d worn earlier and various sheets of paper with his scribbled handwriting over it. I wished to take a photograph of the sight—a peace-loving artist in his natural habitat with a loyal companion at his side. 

Robert shut the book, which I could now see was a thick volume of Tolkien’s work, and started to walk towards the spare room. 

“Odd, let me see.” He muttered to himself as he came up to the windowsill and attempted to yank the window shut just as I’d done. 

“It doesn’t look rusted but it feels like it.” I added quietly. 

“I think you’re right, Y/N, I’ll have to fix it in the mornin’ if I’ve got a-” He began, turning back to face me. 

A clap of thunder boomed right over the house while it felt like the earth was quaking below us too, making me fearfully jump and hide myself with the nearest thing—which, of course, happened to be my host. If I wasn’t so startled, I might’ve refrained from doing so but my body was trembling in fear. I couldn’t help but bury my face in his shirt with my arms wrapped tightly around him just to ground myself as everything felt like it was shaking or crumbling to pieces. 

His hand patted my back reassuringly, “It’s far too cold to sleep in here with the window stuck open like that and, with the way you’re crushin’ my lungs right now, I don’t think you want to be alone in this storm.” 

I couldn’t really respond verbally so I just nodded my head. He started to play with my hair. 

“Alright, will you come into my room?” 

I nodded again and pulled back slightly with my head down, mumbling a quiet “sorry” for using him as a brace against my fear of the storm. He led me by the hand back into his room and gestured for me to come lie down beside him, Strider now demoted to the floor. I quietly obeyed his request and hugged a pillow to my chest as I tried to focus on only my breathing. Robert sat down beside me with his hand soothingly running down my back like he was trying to calm down a frightened child. Thunder clapped again, now quieter as the storm was passing through and I felt my nerves start to relax themselves a little bit. 

“D’ya want me to get anythin’ for you?” He asked as my grip on the pillow started to loosen up. 

“No, thank you. I think I’ll be okay.” 

“Ah, very brave. The storm’s quietin’ down anyways so it shouldn’t be so loud now.” 

I took a deep breath and released the pillow I’d been holding in a death-grip, apologetically smiling at him. Robert took one of my hands, which was comparatively tiny within his own, and held it as he asked me if I was feeling better now. He changed the subject once he confirmed that I was okay, trying to lighten the room saying that I looked nicer in his shirt than he did and that I could keep it if I wanted. The storm was now just the sound of rain pattering on the house and an occasional, distant flash of lightning from outside. 

He continued the conversation, asking about me and what I liked to do besides frolic around forests or drive up to musicians’ backyards. I explained a few things about myself, feeling as though what I said was a lot duller than any stories he usually heard from fellow famous people. But his focused gaze and emotive expressions reacting to what I said made me go on talking, sensing that he was listening to me with interest even though it couldn’t be nearly as intriguing as his own life. My nervous fear had completely quieted down at this point. I continued on, meandering onto the subject of how I appreciated him and his bandmates’ musical contributions. He rolled his eyes with a smile and shushed me. 

“Y’know, I’ve got a bit of a confession to make.” Robert interjected, completely taking the subject off his work. 

“What’s that?” 

“I honestly forgot about this earlier and only remembered about ten minutes after you came in here, but the window there has a lock on it which is why it wouldn’t shut.” 

“Why didn’t you say so then?” 

“Well first, you were still scared and I didn’t want to leave you all alone in there. Plus, it’s a lot more comfortable now with you beside me.” He smiled half-mischievously. 

My jaw dropped a little in surprise as I began to faux-scold him: “You dirty bastard, taking advantage of me being scared.” 

He gasped in mock-hurt, “How dare you accuse me, and with such vulgar words for a little girl!” 

I shot him a playful glare and lightly shoved his shoulder, “I can’t be that little if you’ve invited me to bed with you.” 

He nodded in agreement but continued to taunt me: “Fair point but try tellin’ some of the groupies that. Besides, that doesn’t change the fact that you seem to have a filthy mouth, darlin’.” 

The fluttering feeling in my stomach was back; I felt something between anticipation and nerves rising up through my chest as I started to sense that he was coming onto me again. If the circumstances were different, maybe I wouldn’t have been so eager to go along with all this but I figured this could be a once-in-a-lifetime occasion. Normally and with practically any other person, I wouldn’t act so wanton. But since he was being so blunt, I decided to bite. 

“What are you going to do about it?” I prodded. 

At this, Robert seemed pleasantly surprised but quickly recovered his mischievous expression. 

“Come here and find out.” He said, nodding his head towards his side of the bed. 

I bit my lower lip nervously and cautiously turned over more to face him, only to be directed by his hands placed along my sides to straddle his hips. Robert kept his hands down at my waist as I watched him with curiosity. His gaze was focused on my wondering expression but it didn’t feel scrutinizing, only like time was slowly drifting by around us and we were the only two people in the world. I leaned forward to gently kiss his nose, trying to tease him as much as possible. 

He laughed, informing me that I missed my target. One of his hands came up to caress my face before pulling me forwards to his own lips and I felt myself fully leaning into him, my hands finding themselves tangling into his golden curls. As my fingers started to lightly tug along his hair, he groaned against my mouth and pulled my hips up closer to his torso. I took the chance to grind myself over his lap, feeling a lot more daring than I’d normally be after meeting a person for the first time. His reactions, mostly moaning against my lips or guiding me with his hands, encouraged me to go on, sparked a fire in my abdomen and melt away all my inhibitions in that moment. 

I pulled away, completely breathless and looking at a smirking Robert through half-lidded eyes, unable to believe that any of this was really happening. It felt as though my veins were tingling with fireworks and my heart was racing in my chest. If I could capture this moment and endlessly re-live it, I would. Especially as he gently pushed me down onto my back and played with the waistband of my underwear, as the shirt he’d given me had risen up to my stomach. 

“Mind if I slip these off?” He asked, hooking a finger into the waistband teasingly. 

Before I had a chance to answer, his hand crept lower and teased the sensitive skin over my core with his warm touch. My eyes widened in surprise, my breath hitched, my heart was hammering in my chest, and I nearly trembled under his touch. The cocky smile tugging at his lips and made the butterflies in my stomach flutter a little lower in my abdomen. Robert quirked his brows up at me, still waiting for a response as his fingertips tantalizingly motioned over my slit.

“P-Please.” I breathed out finally, lightly clutching onto the blanket to brace myself for whatever this devilish man had in mind.

“Hm, perhaps I should fulfill your request without much teasin’ since I tricked ya a little with the window.” He smiled, hooking his finger around the side again and slowly pulling off the only layer left below my hips.

I pulled my legs together bashfully, only to have Robert put a hand on my inner thigh.

“No need to be shy, darlin’, do you want this or not?”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly.

“Then relax and tell me if you want me to stop.” He instructed, shifting his hand onto my lower abdomen reassuringly and as a means to keep me in place.

His touch crept up very slowly and cautiously, as though testing the waters at every inch, up from my mid-thigh. I impulsively leaned my head back against the pillows, letting myself focus on just the feeling of his hands on my body. It felt like his fingertips sparked little sparks of lightning along my skin and as they got higher, I could notice my breaths growing heavier as my heartbeat pounded against my chest. The feeling of his fingers right where I wanted them alone made me feel like I was in heaven, and then he dove down with his mouth. I gasped, clutching at the sheets and looking down with wide eyes to see his cocky face between my thighs.

The fire coursing through my veins grew hotter as I came closer to release, my breathy moans getting higher and higher. Robert started humming against my core as encouragement and I could feel my hips fighting to buck upwards towards him. The world seemed like it’d faded away and I was living in one of his band’s sultry songs, the rhythm being hummed against my skin as I moaned out the melody. I tipped my head back as I released over his mouth, his tongue lapping at my folds.

“Mm, good girl.” He praised, raising himself up to press a kiss to my lips as his hands tangled into my hair.

He teasingly bit at my lower lip, his nose nudging mine lightly as I looked up at him in awe and pure ecstasy. My fingers tangled into Robert’s thick golden curls and tugged at the strands, earning a deep groan against my lips from him in response. The night’s proceedings continued similarly, burning fires spreading between our bodies and reaching unimaginable highs. I passed out underneath him, his head resting on my chest with his curls splayed out and hands gently holding my sides. It was an angelic sight to fall asleep to: his long eyelashes resting atop his flushed cheeks, his face in a peaceful disposition, a small smile on his lips, and his warm body acting as a blanket over mine.

I woke up with the sunlight streaming in through the small glass window and its lacy, white sheer curtains. The golden rays shone in my hair and on my cheeks, the brightness just barely distracting me from my missing host. Instead, I found his loyal companion at the foot of the bed. Shifting up to a seated position, I gently pet him and whispered to him where I could find Robert. Strider’s ears pricked up at the mention of his master’s name, his eyes staring intently into mine momentarily before speeding off down the hallway.

Getting up from the bed, I took note of my missing undergarments but followed the cheerful dog after pulling my borrowed shirt down a little lower over my legs. Strider led me towards the kitchen, a fairly simple room with various essential appliances, some plates lying over the counter, a few notes stuck onto the white fridge with random magnets, soaps, a blue-white gingham towel, and a disheveled Robert standing in the corner with a cream-colored coffee mug in his hand. A smile appeared on his face at the sight of Strider, praising the dog with kind nicknames and patting his head.

His gaze then met mine, “Good mornin’ Y/N. Sleep well?”

I nodded, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Don’t mention it.” He commented as he put the mug down on the counter.

Robert came up to me, placing a hand on each side of my face to tilt my head upwards. I looked up at him in curiosity, wondering what his intentions were and loosely wrapped my arms over his hips. Our bodies were pressed together, chests resting against on another, and our eyes calmly looking into the other’s. It was comfortable and peaceful, standing quietly in his kitchen together with no noise besides the rustling of leaves in the summer wind outside.

After pressing a light kiss to my forehead, he gave me a small smile and said, “I hope ya don’t have any plans today, ‘cause I’d like to keep ya here a little longer with me.”

I shook my head, making his smile grow into a wide grin and he shifted his hands lower along my frame to pick me up, my upper half hauled over his broad shoulder as I giggled at his childish action. With my shirt shifting downwards, he also took the opportunity to give my rear end a light smack. Strider barked in alarm, following wherever I was being toted off to. My host plopped me down on my back onto his unmade bed, pressing a hard kiss onto my lips, and directing me to stay in my lounging position.

Robert called for his loyal companion to hop up and lie down at the foot of the bed, then backed up to scrutinize the scene he was setting. A few more additions were moved onto the nightstands: little golden trinkets, a few tall white candles in ornate stands with wax melted down their sides, a speckled brown feather, and a few pieces of his turquoise-stone jewelry. But even then he wasn’t finished. Several hand-picked pale blue wildflowers were carefully placed through my hair. The final touch was Robert arranging the way his blouse laid over my body and making a deep purple bruise over my exposed sternum.

“Now stay just like that…” He directed, holding up a finger while searching for something in the drawers of the dark, wooden dresser against the opposite wall.

The item he’d been looking for was a camera, a fairly nice polaroid camera, and he pointed it at the setting he just created. Upon the realization, my mouth widened and I half-protested at his desire to photograph me. He snapped the first photo and eagerly shook the blank slide in his hand until he saw the result.

“You look lovely, darlin’, just a bit surprised. Don’t feel so tense.” He suggested, lifting the camera back up to his eyes.

He spent about twenty more minutes re-arranging the various objects surrounding me and trying to make me relaxed in front of the camera lens. It felt so silly but it was fun once I got used to just following along with Robert’s little whims. There was a stack of polaroids up on the dresser once he was finally done with the impromptu photoshoot. Rather, he finished because I took the camera from him and took a few shots of him before the camera completely ran out of film.

Once I re-dressed into my own clothes from the previous day, we looked through all the photos in the living room. I’d even managed to get a surprisingly un-blurred picture of a laughing Robert as Strider eagerly licked all over his face. He pocketed a few of the photos without showing them to me, likely the more risqué ones he took, then let me have my pick of photos to take home. The process of parting ways was elongated over several hours, neither of us really wanting to do so but knowing that it was unavoidable. He kept offering me things or either of us would come up with a distraction all the way up until four o’clock when the sky was already starting to blaze in a rainbow of various colors, signaling that evening and dusk weren’t so far off. I was given a permanent invitation back and a phone number, then finally drove back home in the strongest state of disbelief I’d ever experienced.


	3. summer roadtrip (robert plant/jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant & Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> nsfw & use of marijuana

Thirty hours out on the road and I was already feeling better. I’d slept at a quaint roadside hotel last night, got some breakfast, and set off again in my car. There was so much freedom in driving by all the vast plains that would grow into small towns and larger cities, experiencing America beyond the eyes of a tourist but not staying long enough to be a resident. The summer sun shined high in the bright blue sky and reflected off the rich, sparkling emerald color of the hood. My plan was to travel across several states in about four days to meet my friend, giving myself plenty of leeway in the timing just in case something happened on the road. 

I spent most of yesterday sitting in the car after waking up at five in the morning and driving until nine at night. Air conditioning on when it was too hot to keep the windows down, radio on for a sense of company, suitcase of clothes tossed in the back, beautiful views of natural life, and a bottle of Coke in the cupholder—simplistic freedom. I saw the sun rise as the purple sky turned into its vivid blue, the pale moon slowly fading away, and as the sun fell across to the other side of the horizon, the sky turned into a rainbow of blended colors like the melted wax of red, yellow, blue, purple candles. But the night was most beautiful: clear roads, navy galaxies with sparkling white stars, and distant lights of a city beckoning drivers closer. It was a pity I hadn’t done this sooner.

Sometimes I’d stop along the way, reach for my camera, and take pictures of the scenery so I could look back at this trip with them. White birds perched along thorny fences. Lines of beautiful, shiny cars passing by. Lush canyons in bloom with fragrant flowers. Red-rocked mountains with sage and brush surrounding their bases. Misty hilltops with skies threatening to pour rain over me. People who were travelling like me, stretching their legs at rest stops with books of crosswords or drinks in their hands—all strangers passing through the same area before heading off in various directions.

I was at a gas station in southern Nevada, the sun warming my air conditioner-cooled skin. The tune of a Mamas & Papas song was on my lips as I hummed cheerfully, going into the little food shop for some water. As I passed by some mirror inside, I was surprised. Despite my quick morning routine today and lack of effort dedicated to my overall appearance, I seemed to look more radiant than on a regular day back home. It made me smile just a little bit to myself.

Heading back outside, my eyes observed a scene that I could barely believe was my reality. Standing right by my car and staring at it was the world-renowned John Bohnam himself, his golden-haired friend not too far off beside him. I hesitantly walked over, not wanting to disturb them but I did have to be on my way. My face started to flush and I kept my eyes downwards until I was within six feet of where the musicians stood.

“This yours?” The drummer asked, his gaze looking up from the car to me.

“Yeah.” I confirmed as casually as I could without letting them know that my heart was pounding in my chest.

“That’s a Camaro, right?” Robert questioned.

His friend gave him an unimpressed look before scolding him: “Yeah it’s a bloody Camaro, ya twit, it’s a ’69 Z-28.”

I stifled back a laugh at their banter and nodded, “He’s right on the money, Mr. Plant.”

His brows quirked up at the mention of his name, as though surprised that I recognized him. It wasn’t too difficult with his signature mane of blond hair, blue jeans, floral blouse, jewelry, and everlasting lopsided smile. He approached me closer to confirm his suspicion while Bonzo took the opportunity to get a closer look at my car.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked, tilting his head towards me.

“I just said that your bandmate was right.”

“Ah, our covers have been blown.” Robert joked.

“They’re pretty lousy if I could recognize you so quickly.” I pointed out, leaning against the rear panel.

He nodded and changed the subject, “So, what’s your name, where ya headed?”

“Y/N and a music-arts festival in Seattle, I’ve just got to pick up my friend in San Francisco.”

“Sounds very enjoyable. When would you be up north? The band’s headed up anyways so I might be able to push the schedule around a bit.” He explained, gesturing to the silvery tour bus parked off to the side. “Or…you could come travel with us until we get up to Seattle?”

“But my car…”

“Don’t worry about it, you can follow the bus and have your friend meet you up there.”

I considered his offer, knowing that this was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing and knowing that my friend would be relatively understanding of it if I took up his proposition. But I remembered the fatigue I felt last night after driving for so long and knowing that I’d probably end up stopping more often along the way than they wanted to.

“I’d slow you down…”

“Nonsense, I may not know too much about it but your car’s definitely faster than the bus.”

Then I was struck with an idea. Potentially risky or very positive, but I was willing to make a counter-offer to Robert if it meant I could travel with them for a little while. Well, as long as Jimmy or Jonesy didn’t mind and they could make the manager accept my terms.

With a slightly-sly smile, I made my offer: “Or…I could let your friend here drive the car along the way. I’d take too many rest stops if I was driving and then end up lost somewhere on the edge of California.”

At this, Bonzo perked up and stared at me with wide eyes as though he were a kid being gifted a puppy. I took his reaction as a good sign, turning my attention back to the still-considering Robert. His eyes also caught onto the drummer’s reaction and there was a slight look of defeat on his face, knowing his friend wouldn’t pass up the chance. However, he still remained quiet towards an absolute decision.

Bonzo clearly grew impatient, “Look. If you’re not gonna let this girl on, I’ll kick out all the others on the rest of the way on tour b’cause none of ‘em are gonna be this generous. Then Jimmy’ll be pissed at ya.”

Then, the decision was made: “Fine then. You do know what you’re gettin’ into though with this guy behind the driver’s seat?”

I shrugged, “I love the car but this is a rarer opportunity than driving and I assume he’s got enough respect for it not to cause any damage.”

“Right you are, love.” The drummer affirmed, thanking me as I handed him the keys and picked up my luggage from the backseat.

Eagerly, I stepped towards the singer who wrapped a welcoming arm over my shoulders. It was truly the most reassuring feeling in the world even though we were technical strangers. As we walked towards the bus, Bonzo whooping in the background as he started up my car’s engine, Robert was about to ask me something until the loud yell of his manager’s voice cut him off.

“Ay, Plant! How long’s it take you to take a shit?!”

Robert straightened up and shouted back: “Shut it! We’ve got a guest, have some propriety for goodness sake.”

“A guest? Robert…” The angered manager began.

“A refined lady who kindly allowed Bonzo to drive her lovely car behind us. In reality, she did ya a favor since he was about to throw somethin’ out the window from bein’ cooped up so long.”

The manager rolled his eyes and waved us back aboard the tour bus in acceptance of his charges’ ridiculous whims, partially used to them by now. He gave me a passing glance as Robert led me up the stairs into the bus. I was greeted by a wave from the driver and then, the glorious miniature house of the bus interior.

It was like a photograph straight out of a music magazine: relatively dull furniture, a messy kitchen, two chatty roadies on the golden-brown velvet couch, another asleep on the arm of the couch, and a disheveled Jimmy Page clutching a bottle of Jack in one hand as he held a book up to his face with the other. From the chatter, I overheard Jonesy was taking a plane by himself so he could do something with his family and then make it on time for the next show. A few eyes raised up towards me, noting that from a glance I was not their beloved drummer.

“Hey, what happened to Bonzo?” One of the roadies asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Robert was quicker.

“He’s run off with a gas station attendant, abandoned drums for good, and this is his new replacement.”

Jimmy didn’t turn to face us but his brows raised up in disbelief while the others whined for Robert to tell them the truth. I suppose the ridiculousness of his made-up story, combined with the bashful smile on my face, ruined the believability. After finally silencing everyone, the singer quickly explained to them what’d happened minutes ago, adding on that Bonzo was definitely safe and still their drummer. The others welcomed me along and a few made teasing remarks about being Robert’s guest.

I was prompted to take a seat at a soft turquoise chair with an intricately-patterned pillow placed in the center, right beside a matching one that Robert seated himself upon. The conversations between the others continued on as the bus started up and started to drive away from the gas station. With a quick peek through the side window, I could see a very jovial drummer behind the wheel of my car driving alongside the bus.

“So, where ya from, love? How long’ve you been drivin’ for on this trip?” The singer began, folding a hand under his chin and opening up an hour-long conversation about my traveling plans.

Time seemed to fly by a lot faster here than when I was alone in my car. There was so much more life and new things going on with all the other people who had so many interesting things to talk about that I’d never experienced before. They seemed interested in my own thoughts about the music industry and music overall as an audience member. I think I might’ve made Jimmy smile and some of the roadies blush with my praise for the band’s work in the studio or on tour, pointing out that each of them had vital contributions to the mind-blowing results of Zep records or shows.

We stopped once for more gas, finally getting the chance to actually check in with Bonzo and his experience with my car while everyone took the chance to stretch their legs. The drummer thanked me for giving him something interesting to do relative to the apparent boredom of the tour bus. Some of the guys came back from the nearby food shop carrying armfuls of drinks, potato chips, cigarettes, and whatever else struck their fancy for a makeshift travelling dinner.

I barely even noticed that it was past eight in the evening by the time the conversation finally lulled. The beautiful orange-pink sunset over the dusty plains caught my eye, the guys finding my awe towards it admirable and looking over my shoulder to see it through the window. They opened the window once I moved and waved to Bonzo who was driving behind us still, occasionally driving up right beside the bus or trying to overtake it on the road. I found myself soon lying down on the couch sleepily, my head on Robert’s lap with my feet resting over one of the roadie’s laps. The singer mindlessly played with my hair while listening intently to my responses towards Jimmy’s various inquiries.

“Can you really hear all of those things on the record? Gosh, I thought no one could make out the background noise unless they knew it was there.” He pouted after learning that apparently all the band’s babbling was quite evident to listeners.

“Yeah, but I think a lot of people like it because you can feel like you’re in that setting where the music’s being recorded.”

Jimmy wasn’t too satisfied with my response, “I’ll have to try cutting it down on the next one if you can really hear me going ‘Oh shit’ on it.”

“You really are a Capricorn…” I teased, earning an impressed look from the guitarist.

Robert chuckled, “Now you’ve got his attention, darlin’. You say anythin’ about knowin’ a little of the mystical stuff, Jimmy perks right up.”

At this, the guitarist scoffed but questioned what sign I was and prodded me to see how much more I knew in relation to astrology. I was surprised that he actually wanted to discuss some of his interests in that realm with me since he, apparently, didn’t like talking about it publicly so people didn’t mindlessly follow his footsteps. Robert slid into the conversation a few times with a joke then seemed much more involved as his bandmate spoke of how the Crowley philosophy could be applied practically, specifically the more libertine approach to love.

The discussion rendered me silent, bringing a heavy blush to my cheeks and making me much more perceptive of Robert’s hand placement. They started tangled in my hair, then moved down to hold my hand, and now rested precariously on my hip bone. I was thankful the roadies had either moved further away from us or had fallen asleep at this point. The philosophy was certainly interesting and had its points but I was far too bashful for hearing the discussion of such a subject, in detail, in the presence of these two men in particular.

They seemed to notice my sentiment, Robert being first to acknowledge my red face with a small smirk: “Are you alright? You look a bit flushed, love.”

“Yeah…you’re all pink, are you feeling ill or just shy?” Jimmy joined in.

Both of their mischievous gazes fixed on me and their taunting comments did not help at all. I turned away, using Robert’s torso as a shield from their eyes and earned a reassuring pat on the head as well as a few quiet laughs from the two of them.

“Definitely shy.” Jimmy crooned. “I think there’s a little trick to curing that.”

I couldn’t see what was going on between the guys but I could sense the sly grins on their faces and the twinkles in their eyes in the following moments of suspicious silence. The lull and anticipation was broken with the singer pulling me closer so he could lift me up over his shoulder as he stood up from the couch. I nearly shrieked in surprise at the feeling of hanging head-down and only having my hips resting on a surface, that being Robert’s shoulder. He carried me off towards the back room, a hand on my thighs to keep me from sliding off as Jimmy followed behind and shut the door behind us. 

I felt myself being lowered down and plopped onto the bed in the back of the tour bus by Robert. He stepped back to stand beside Jimmy, both of them wearing smug smiles on their faces as they gazed down at me with mischievous eyes. The shared a single glance that seemed to be all the communication they needed to carry out their makeshift plan. As the blond turned to one of the furniture drawers for something, Jimmy stood right at the foot of the bed between where my legs hung down onto the floor. I sat up in slight bewilderment to watch what these two tricksters had up their sleeves.

The guitarist’s hand reached under my chin, tilting my head up with a finger to face his scrutinizing gaze as his other hand smoothed over my hair. Robert came back after retrieving something from the drawers and handed something over to his bandmate. He displayed the contents in his hand to me as an offering, two cigarettes—no, blunts—lying on his palm. Jimmy lit up his, blowing the cloudy white smoke into the dark room.

“You don’t have to take it if ya don’t want it, but I promise it’ll feel better if ya do.” Robert assured, hand still outstretched towards me.

“Or you can just take a few hits off ours.” Jimmy suggested.

I took one from Robert’s hand, holding it between two fingers so Jimmy could light it for me as Robert placed the other between his lips. The heat from the lit blunt swirled warmly through my chest and we remained in comfortable silence together, waiting for the high to start coming on. A distinguishable scent from our smoking filled the room as only moonlight and the occasional streetlight streamed in through the small back window.

A sense of calm overtook my mind as I enjoyed the moment, only to be interrupted by an impatient guitarist’s lips harshly on mine and his hand at the small of my back to keep me steady. Tingles ran down my body once I could process what was going on. The singer cleared his throat off to the side, elegantly setting down the blunt on an ashtray and blowing a white cloud of smoke into the air as the two of us turned our attentions to him.

“Gettin’ a head start, eh?” He joked, coming over to stand right beside Jimmy. “Lie back for us, darlin’.”

Following his order, I leaned back slowly until my head rested over the covers and I looked back up between the two men. Raven-haired Jimmy placed a hand on my inner thigh, pushing it outwards more as he crouched down at the edge of the bed. In the meantime, Robert snuck his hands under the hem of the summer dress I was wearing and pulled my underwear down to my ankles with a hooked finger. My heart was racing when I felt both of them teasing at the bare skin of my inner thighs, dangerously close to where I really wanted them.

I couldn’t even tell who was touching me anymore; someone’s lips at my mid-thigh, someone’s hand massaging higher and higher, someone took an experimental lick up the skin. But I could tell it was Jimmy who gave a light smack over my core, making me jolt slightly in surprise after all their teasing. He tested out the motion again a few more times, each one slightly harder than before as though he was trying to get the same reaction from me every time.

His partner-in-crime used the moment to take a few more hits off the blunt before coming back over to me, now completely bare-chested. He came up onto the bed then shifted around so he straddled my torso, giving him a comfortable position to leave bruises over my neck and keep me down while Jimmy continued the onslaught of stimulation between my thighs. My hands combed into his golden curls in encouragement, the sensations all over me feeling far greater as the blunt started to take effect. I felt like I was floating and I could feel my heartbeat through the entirety of my body, a fire flickering with heat through my veins.

A sudden coldness fell upon Jimmy’s post as he stood up, ordering Robert to move. Impulsively, I reached a hand down to make up for the lack of contact and carry on the high that the guitarist had built up, but his iron grip grabbed onto my wrist at the speed of lightning to stop me. I meekly watched the two of them, like a startled fawn catching sight of two ravenous wolves but with much more excitement than fear. While Jimmy held onto my wrists, pulling them up over my head, his golden-haired accomplice kneeled down at my feet as though he was a majestic hero about to be knighted. With a proud smile, he dove his mouth and tongue where Jimmy had previously been using his hand. I writhed at the sensation and pulled against the restraint of the guitarist’s strong hand, only to get his other hand lightly clasped around my throat in warning.

“You make a noise, we leave you in here high and dry.” He threatened.

If it wasn’t for his harsh words and how real everything felt, I would’ve thought it was just some hazy hallucination from whatever they could’ve made me smoke with them. Everything felt so much more intense with the addition of the drug that I felt like I was practically gushing with inexplicable pleasure.


	4. old men do it better (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silver fox!jimmy x fem!reader  
> a little nsfw at the end

“…And that’s a wrap for the interview, thank you so much Mr. Page.” One of the radio speakers announced, signaling for me to cut the recording there.

The honorable guest stood up from his seat, waving his hand in response and coming into the room where I was operating the soundboard. My eyes widened in surprise, trying to mentally prepare myself to speak to him in those fractions of a second as he opened the door. I was holding my breath and felt my stomach turn. It was practically unbelievable after all these years of admiring him; one of the most talented musicians on earth was in the room and acknowledging me.

“Thank you for your work, I heard you wrote most of the questions and they were all thought-provoking and more respectful than what some people tend to ask.” He smiled, standing in the doorway.

“O-Of course, Mr. Page. I mean, it’s only decent to give you questions you’re comfortable with answering.”

He nodded in consideration, “Would it be too far of a reach to guess you enjoy my music?”

I smiled bashfully, warmth flooding my cheeks. “Not at all. I’m afraid you’re one of my absolute favorite musicians out there, so your guess is right on.”

“Well, thank you for your support and kindness.”

My heart was pounding now and I was amazed that my voice hadn’t trembled or that I hadn’t completely stuttered out my sentences. I was getting flashbacks in my mind as he remained silent for a few moments with a hint of a grin on his lips. Every single record I’d listened to with him featured on it, The Song Remains the Same film, all the filmed concert videos I’d found online, all the things I’ve read on him, researching the meanings behind all the symbolism surrounding him, various fantasies, all the different guitars, everything.

Someone in the studio called out to tell me to go home already since all the recording for the day was done. I shouted back a “thank you” and got up from my seat shakily, making sure all the equipment was adequately cared for before leaving. Jimmy held the door open for me as I made my way out, following me through the hallways to the doorway outside. I was trying desperately to stay calm and collected as possible, only my red face giving away the tension inside me.

The guitarist stood by the building, likely waiting to be taken home by a driver since the interview ended early. I took my phone out of my pocket to check notifications briefly as I walked a little ways down the street, heading back home since the walk wasn’t too long and I’d been sitting almost all day. But this short instance of distraction was enough for something to go awry, and I barely noticed until the very last second.

A hand reached out to grab my wrist tightly and I was being pulled off to the curb towards a car before I could realize what was going on. I screamed loudly in response. Panic shot through my chest. I started to thrash against this stranger in startled fear. Their grip start to loosen on me, seeing that I wasn’t going to be an easy target, and I was finally let go when a commanding voice boomed from behind me. It even startled me to hear the very same guest who was just jubilantly laughing and answering silly questions now shouting vulgarities at this attacker. The stranger ran off before they could be recognized, driving quickly down the street and leaving me alone on the street with Jimmy.

I turned around, my heart still pounding in my chest and breathlessly muttered to myself: “God that scared me.”

“Are you alright?” Jimmy’s now-soft voice asked, as though trying to soothe a spooked deer.

“Yeah, that isn’t the first time something like that’s happened.” I sighed. “You know, you really didn’t have to jump in there, I could’ve handled it.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. Besides, from what I saw, you were about to be shoved into a car and taken off to who knows where.”

I bit my lip, knowing that he had a point and there was no arguing against it.

“Well, thank you for stepping in. I really do appreciate it, I think I just need to calm down after that.”

He nodded in understanding, “Can I offer you a ride home? It may not be the wisest to just go off on your own after that and it really wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“O-Okay.”

Almost like on command, his driver pulled up to the curbside and Jimmy opened the backdoor for me. I slid into the seat and was surprised that he was going to sit beside me. Fear was still lingering in my mind and I stared forward blankly, trying to reason with myself to relax since I was safe now. The car drove on through the streets. I wasn’t even paying attention to anything besides the replaying memory of what just happened. My mind was so distraught that I didn’t even really notice that my host’s hand was reassuringly holding my own.

The car stopped and I was brought out of my head, noticing that this was most definitely not my home. I looked to Jimmy in confusion, but he reassured me “it was no trouble” and brought me to the conclusion that he wanted me to spend some time here with him instead of just sitting at home alone. This only added to my disbelief. Being led by his hand, I followed along silently as we went through the tall, intricately-carved, dark wood double-doors of the entrance.

Beautiful white stone archways and columns swooped above our heads as Jimmy opened the doors. The walls were either covered in old-looking murals or things like paintings, journals, and artifacts in frames as though he lived inside a museum. Our footsteps echoed from the vaulted ceilings and cold marble floors.

He led me down the main hallway until we reached some sort of sophisticated living room with even more incredible details all around the room and posh furniture. I was urged to sit down on the chaise lounge, Jimmy seating himself at the opposite end with a concerned look in his eyes. It was certainly not how I anticipated the rest of the day to go and I wasn’t even sure what to say to him.

Lucky for me, he seemed to sense it and picked up the conversation: “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable, love?”

“No, thank you. I’m imposing enough as it is and I’m very grateful for your help, Mr. Page.”

“It’s not an imposition at all.” He remarks with a serious gravity. “You’re perfectly welcome here and don’t be bashful at all if you want anything. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

I nodded, looking down at the floor and still far too meek to really respond in some other way. Fear was still lingering in my mind, the worry preventing me from relishing in the fact that I was Jimmy Page’s guest and that there were all of these worldly, beautiful things surrounding me. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. All I could do to reassure myself was keep thinking about how everything was fine now, that I was safe thanks to his generosity.

My host cleared his throat, “Would you like to see the library? Maybe the record collection in the other room?”

I looked up at him, a tiny smile creeping onto my previously-frowning lips. “Could I?”

He stood up, straightening out his pant legs and commenting quietly: “There’s a smile.”

So we went back down the hallway, this time turning directly to the left and being surrounded by the mosaiced walls of a tunnel. Jimmy stopped at a tall doorway, turning to check on me for a moment. The dark hall was suddenly illuminated when he opened the doors to the library and all the sunlight from the distant windows streamed out of the room. The guitarist’s hand was placed on the small of my back, urging me to go forth.

“Well, how do you like it? Impressive and big enough for your taste?” Jimmy called as I walked slowly across the floor.

Bookshelves lined three of the walls, from the very floor up to the high ceiling so I had to tilt my head up to see the top shelf. A few leather couches and armchairs were placed around the room for reading, patterned crimson rugs atop the polished marble floor. Ancient-looking figurines and thick candles in golden holders were set over various dark wooden tabletops along with some stray books. Lengthy, velvet-curtained windows lined the opposite wall with cushioned benches built into their bases. I could see the beautiful blue sky through them and there was something peaceful with its bright simplicity.

I turned around slowly, taking my time to fully observe the grandiose library. All of these incredible things were a perfect distraction from my previous thoughts, all of this written knowledge up on those shelves. There was something so exciting about just the potential of being able to read all of these hundreds, probably millions, of books. I drew nearer to the shelves and looked over just one portion of a shelf: philosophy of ancient Egypt, chiaroscuro painting techniques, 19th century occultist beliefs, maps of constellations, Romantic era music theory, native English botany. It was all so fascinating that I was pretty sure my jaw dropped.

“I’m glad to have been able to distract you so easily, but you’ve been quiet for a while, darling.” Jimmy commented, making me turn to face him again.

“It’s just so beautiful.” I motioned to the room.

“Indeed it is, there’s a section further down there by the record player that you might enjoy too.”

It was a whole column up the massive bookcase of various vinyls, quite a few of which he was featured on. I rifled through them, fascinated by his wide variety of music genres and how huge his collection was. There was even one with a set of Rachmaninoff piano pieces, apparently in ode to his bandmate and fellow former-session man. My mind was soon put at ease, especially as he quietly turned on a recording of Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique with its cheerful, emotion-sweeping introductory movement. The rest of the afternoon and evening seemed to slip away with various records playing while I flipped through some of the books.

The sky outside had turned into a canvas of soft orange, pink, purple, and blue bleeding together as the warm sun started to fall below the distant horizon. I felt at peace, seeing such a beautiful sight in such breathtaking surroundings. The music created an ambience quietly in the background as it played such passionate, emotional melodies that swept my attention away from anything else. Sometimes I could even imagine a setting to what I was hearing paired with the little passages I read in the books.

Towards the end of a Chopin piece, a childish mischief came over me as I finished flipping through a particularly interesting book of poetry. Jimmy was seated quietly over by the record player, thinking to himself as he leafed through some leather-bound journal. I placed the book back where I found it and sat down directly across from him with my chin resting over my palm, my eyes studying my gracious host. His gaze flitted up towards me curiously, as though instantly noticing my sudden restlessness and asking what the matter was.

Pointing up to the intersection of the bookshelf and ceiling, I remarked: “I wonder how you go to read the books all the way up there.”

“With the tall ladder over at the other side of the shelf, it’s got wheels so you can move it about. You just have to be careful.”

“Are the books up there the ones you aren’t as interested in? Or maybe something you don’t want other people to see?” I asked, a smile slowly curling to the edges of my lips.

The guitarist folded his hands together before defensively retorting, “And here I thought you were being meek. But perhaps that was just for when you’re on-record.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, Mr. Page, just teasing.”

His brows raised in surprise for a moment and he commandeered the conversation: “Come here.”

At his beckoning, I got up from my seat and stood before him expectantly. His roughly-textured hands captivated my own and pulled me closer, I complied so I sat sideways over his lap. The turn of events surprised me, but it wasn’t intimidating. A feeling of warmth bloomed in my chest as I loosely draped my arms over his shoulders.

“You don’t seem as demure as you were earlier, Y/N.”

“Because you’re a very good host, Mr. Page.”

“Glad to hear it.”

One of his hands reached up to tuck a tendril of my hair from my face and remained placed at the side of my face. His enigmatic green eyes read over my countenance as I took the opportunity to observe my position—his silvery hair pulled back elegantly, an air of wisdom over his features, a perpetually youthful gleam in his eyes, and an undecipherable quirk upon his lips. Feeling particularly emboldened by this position, I leaned closer slowly to allow plenty of time for him to stop me at any moment until our noses brushed and our lips connected with a feather lightness.

His hand drew me closer as encouragement and the warmth in my chest seemed to spread throughout my whole body. Now my heart was pounding in my chest, but from excitement rather than fear. It felt like I was dreaming, the room melting away from around us and the little flame of mischief I had was burning brighter. But the moment was over too soon, as the need to breathe made me pull away. Jimmy’s arms loosely encircled my hips to keep me in place.

“Maybe I should provoke you more if that’s the result.” I joked.

“You’ll have to test that theory.”

I decided to follow his instruction, provoking him with my hand reaching down to just barely palm him over the thick fabric of his trousers. From this, I earned a deep kiss as encouragement with one of his hands threading through my hair along the back of my head. His other hand remained around my hips, grasping lightly at my rear through my clothes.


	5. tour manager (john paul jones x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Paul Jones x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Twenty days into the tour and I was starting to grow fairly annoyed with my charges. First, they were pretty much just as wild as their media portrayals which made the job of wrangling them difficult enough. Second, their general manager would sometimes chime in on the practical jokes and havoc-wreaking, making the tour managing even more difficult at times. The cherry on top was the rowdy entourage. 

I somehow got them all at the venue an extra hour or so earlier than absolutely necessary which gave me time to check in on everything before they’d go on stage and then go off to frolic all night long. Some of them complained and Grant tried telling me off about getting places this early with such a restless group. In response, I may have kindly told him to piss off and let me do my job. This began with gathering the whole band into a white-walled, concrete-floored dressing room.

“Thank you for meeting up with me in here. I have a few things to go over and then you’re free to do as you please, within reason, before the show.” I started, holding a clipboard of notes before me.

“Ya didn’t really give us a choice.” Robert reminded, earning a few chuckles from his bandmates.

“Well, this is important if you want the tour to go on smoothly.” I pointed out with a sigh. “Your requests have all been approved by the venues and I’ve got all the reservations re-confirmed at hotels. For personal things… Robert and Bonzo, your families called you so remember to call ‘em back after the show. Jonesy, I got a note that your bass strings might need to be changed out, is that accurate?”

“Not urgent, but yes.” He nodded.

“Alright, meet me tomorrow morning to settle that.”

I took a note down on my clipboard and continued going over the list. In a sickly-sweet tone, I addressed the guitarist: “Pagey, love?”

“Yes, darling Y/N?” He looked up, batting his eyelashes and responding in the same comical tone.

I switched back to the professional tone as I gave him my personal note: “You need to get that nasty sweat-soaked suit cleaned properly so either give it to me now or after the show, that is if you’re bold enough to wear it again when it reeks that bad.”

He clutched at his chest in mock-offense, “How dare you take my dragon suit away from me?”

“I dare because it’s disgusting. Has it ever been washed?”

“Of course, it’s been hosed down once or twice.”

The reactions of his bandmates almost made me laugh. Robert was nearly in a giggling fit while Bonzo, of all people, gave Jimmy a revolted look. Jonesy just looked like he’d seen too many things to even care about something like this anymore.

“Alright that’s the end of the meeting unless anyone has anything else for me.” I proclaimed, dismissing them all from the room.

Two of them went off to find a phone to call their families while Jimmy, slightly hurt by my comment, sulked off to go get his dragon suit for me and probably figure out what he was going to where for the show tonight. Jonesy stayed in the room with a contented expression and addressed me after a little while once I finally put my clipboard of notes down.

“Tired with us yet?” He asked, a faint smile on his lips.

“Just a little. Each of you guys has a different talent in causing me trouble.”

His brows raised in surprise, “Really?”

“I’m not going to openly criticize all of you since overall you’re nice people, but yes. With you, there’s the understandable but extra stress of getting separate hotels and such. Plus, you’re very good at quiet manipulation of the others if you’re bored and trying to have some fun.”

“You’re very observant.”

I shrugged, “Just what I’ve noticed over the last week or so.”

The faint smile grew momentarily as he looked down at the ground in thought, then he thanked me and left the room to tend to some personal matter. I stretched my tired body slightly and went off to check with everyone working on stage. There were so many complexities to this job with hardly any guidance on it, but at least I was being treated respectfully. The first time I was sent out on a tour with some lesser-known band they didn’t want to take a young girl seriously as a manager.

Some time passed by after I’d checked on the stage, murmurs of voices from the crowd building up as people entered the building. Grant was already interrogating a security guard for letting someone in through the back entrance, the tension in the air building up even more. The band was back in the dressing room where I left them alone for their personal preparation rituals.

Roadies crowded the tables of food if they’d finished setting up the instruments, a few already ducking out to stand on the sides of the stage. I noticed a few of the girls who’d managed to sneak back here too and observed their varying stares pointed at me. My appearance wasn’t the most business-professional so besides the backstage pass I was wearing, there was nothing to suggest that I was with the band. If they realized what my job was, they seemed to be polite in hopes to get closer to their beloved musicians. If they didn’t and thought I was one of their competitors, I received a glare.

Once there were about ten minutes until the show was meant to start, I knocked on the dressing room door and wrangled them all out into a hallway. They leaned up against the plain white walls, chatting as their energies seemed to be bouncing with anticipation. Robert informed me that Jimmy had taken much longer to get ready since I took away the guitarist’s favorite outfit, and also that he was slightly offended I hadn’t called him by an endearing nickname unlike his fellow bandmates.

“Well I can’t just say ‘John’ for your rhythm section and ‘Jimmy’ is his professional name.” I pointed out, motioning to each of them respectively. “But if it makes you feel any better, what do you want me to call you?”

“’s no fun if I tell ya, you gotta come up with it yourself.”

I chuckled, “Well I’ll think on it while you guys are performing. Speaking of which, get your asses on stage!”

The crowd beyond the walls was now roaring and only grew louder, apparently the lights were extinguished out there to signal the band’s arrival on stage. I followed behind the guys through the empty hallways up to the crowded wings where a sliver of the audience was visible between the curtains and wall. I wished them good luck with the show, excitement already painted over their expressions. The crowd’s energy was contagious and overwhelming, even from the very edge of the stage.

Jimmy was bouncing on his toes and making a few silly faces at me, trying to burn off some of his energy. Bonzo clapped me on the back and said Pat thanked me for getting him on the phone so soon. He moved further upstage to get over to his drum stool. Jonesy had to quickly run across to the opposite side of the stage and got into his calm position with his bass slung over the front of his body. The singer grabbed his mic, corralled me in closer with an arm around my waist, pressed a kiss to my cheek, thanked me, and pranced on stage with a bright grin.

And with that, the show began. Blinding lights shined onto the musicians and the audience cheered wildly, the music somehow blaring even louder over their noise. I’d already seen them perform a few times since the beginning of the tour but their musicianship was always so astounding that I couldn’t leave the side of the stage for the whole two-and-a-half-hour long show. Each concert was different, from the clothes to the flourishes of solos to the improvised segues into old blues songs to Robert’s chatter with the audience.

Their brilliant showcase of skills and the hot lights directed towards the stage were making me feel heated as they played the last song. Sweat was glistening off the band’s bodies as they poured their energies into the music for their audience. The singer bid a goodnight to the audience and everyone came off stage, immediately drying themselves with towels. They headed straight for the dressing room, changing out of their clothes and gulping down water or whatever other liquids they could find back there.

“Y/N, can you get me- ?” Jimmy started to ask.

I tossed a white robe at him, already knowing what he wanted, and getting a surprised look in response.

“Thanks, you’re a quick learner.” He commented.

Jonesy piped up at seeing the exchange: “She’s starting to worry me—she can see right through every one of us.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

“Can’t be if she knows exactly what we’re gonna say ‘fore we even say it, think about it.” Bonzo pointed out with a childish smile on his face and making his blond friend burst out laughing.

“Either way, the cars should be waiting right outside to take everyone to their hotels for the night. Please don’t make me have to get up in the middle of the night for some foolish thing.” I directed, steering them all back down the hallways to the other side of the stadium.

Grant seemed amazed at how well they listened to me but was happy that he didn’t have to shout at anyone else that evening. For this one night, since it was a smaller town, the band would all be in one hotel so I just had one limo and one smaller car outside for everyone to be transported in. I handed out all the room keys and assured them that all the luggage was already in their respective rooms.

The car was boisterous with their loud conversation, the energy of the concert still radiating through them even at such a late hour. It made me a little nervous since there were no fun distractions for them in a less-urban area so they could become a bit restless in their rooms, which of course would lead to me having to get up at some wee hour to go sort out what happened. However, once they heard there was a pool, plans were immediately drawn up to spend a few hours out before resting.

“Hey Y/N, you’re invited too if you can take a night off from bein’ our nanny.” Robert teased.

“I wouldn’t be a ‘nanny’ to you all if there wasn’t good reason for it. But sure, I’ll tag along.” I conceded.

We arrived at some small, dull hotel on the edge of town with some silly palm trees planted by the front entrance. Everyone dispersed to their rooms for their luggage, the gated turquoise pool gleaming in the lamps and moonlight as we walked through the courtyard area. A funny feeling mixed between anticipation and apprehension gripped at my stomach about this whole idea. But I wanted to have some fun that wasn’t strictly work-related, and this would all be fairly civil, so I forced myself to rifle through my suitcase for a swimsuit.

I didn’t really bother taking off any of my jewelry since it was small but loosened my hair and combed through it, fully expecting to be dunked in the water at some point. Shedding off my light clothing from before, I quickly changed and slipped a loose dress over the top for propriety’s sake. A whoop echoed from somewhere outside and was followed by a loud splash, signaling the start of the night’s festivities. I left the room, slipping the key in my pocket and finding my way over to the pool.

There was a heat in the summer air that warmed my skin and calmed my mind. The black sky was clear, the view above absolutely breathtaking with its glittering stars like tiny diamonds and glowing half-moon. More whoops were heard above the quiet conversation as I approached the whole company crowding around the lounge chairs and small tables. Some of the roadies hadn’t bothered to go back to their rooms but just stripped down to their underwear on the spot, some of the band following their example. Bright childish smiles greeted me, the sharp scent of chlorine striking my nose.

“Why’d ya change into a dress? Are ya gonna be like James over there an’ not swim?” Robert asked, wet hair sticking to his face and shoulders as he held himself up at the edge of the pool closest to my feet.

“I am.” I insisted, taking the hem and pulling the dress off over my head to prove myself.

The party applauded and I took a theatrical bow, playing along with their antics. I waved to Jimmy, who was reclined in a lounge chair and started turning around to count heads. In that very moment, though, the mischievous drummer crept up behind me, lifting me up and dropping me down into the cool water. I screamed momentarily in surprise but covered my nose and shut my eyes to brace myself. My body fell through the surface then slowly floated back up.

I coughed up some of the water and brushed the hair off my face then sent a glare to the perpetrator, who nearly fell over laughing. Knowing that it was all good-intentioned, I found no reason to really try scolding him and just shook my head. The opposite side of the pool had broken into a diving competition, the singer proudly trying his hand at it against the roadies. I cheered along with everyone else and clapped for any particularly impressive dives. A hand reached for my shoulder and I jumped back startled momentarily before turning around. It was Jonesy, who kneeled down at the edge of the pool to talk to me so I’d hear him over the ruckus of everyone else.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, a concerned look over his face.

I turned my body around completely, propping myself up so my chest leaned up against the concrete ground at the edge of the pool.

“Yeah, I expected it and no one’s hurt.” I smiled. “Aren’t you going to get into the water? Or would you rather sit around with Jimmy and talk about chord intervals?”

“Doesn’t sound too bad actually…” The bassist joked.

He stood back up and started to slip his clothes off, folding them onto a vacant lounge chair as I watched him. I wolf-whistled at him as he turned back towards the pool, catching everyone else’s attention too. A mocking round of applause rippled through the group for Jonesy finally dropping his “stick-in-the-mud” attitude towards loosening up with everyone else. He rolled his eyes and ignored their cheers for him to jump into the pool, instead simply wading into the water. The group’s attention was returned again to the impromptu diving competition with Robert half-completing a spin before splashing into the water.

“Do they always taunt you like that?” I asked Jonesy, whose shoulder-length cropped hair was already wetted at the ends.

“Sometimes, but they don’t mean anything by it. The truth is I’ve done a few stupid things after shows but I tend to do them privately so I don’t get in trouble, and so I don’t have to hear their noise all night long.”

“Very wise.” I remarked. “Can I ask you something? And please be honest.”

“Sure Y/N, what is it?”

I looked into at the soft shine in his eyes and pursed my lips, “Do you think I’m doing alright with managing the tour?”

A funny look came across his face as though I said something ridiculous, “What d’you mean?”

“It’s only the second official time I’ve managed a group and the first group didn’t take me seriously at all but they were assholes all around… anyways, I just wasn’t sure if I was doing a decent job this time around or maybe that you guys just feel bad for me or something.” I confessed.

“It’s only your second time?”

I nodded.

“You’re doing a damn good job.” He replied immediately.

At this, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d worried a little bit about it for fleeting moments throughout the tour when things didn’t line up perfectly and thought maybe they’d figured it out but took pity on me. Having this affirmation, especially from someone as straight-forward as Jonesy, my mind was flooded with relief. I thanked him and instinctively embraced him, pulling away just as quickly when my sense came back.

“I’m sorry- “

“It’s alright, you should be happy for yourself and especially since you’re handling it well with it only being your second tour gig. At the rate things are going, you’ll probably be around us as long as we keep touring.”

My smile only grew as my cheeks blushed and I reached over to embrace him again, one of my hands finding itself tangled in his soft, honey-brown hair. What surprised me was him reciprocating the action, arms wrapped loosely around my waist. I pulled back slightly, wanting to ask if this was supposed to mean anything but losing the courage and the right words to do it. The reassuring smile that came across his lips seemed to answer the incoherent question in my mind.

The background noise of everyone else seemed to have faded away when our conversation started, but it was slowly starting to creep back in as the moment started to dissolve. Yet there was something within me that didn’t want it to end and I chose to act on that impulse within a fraction of a second of reasoning. I brought myself closer in towards him and pressed a quick kiss onto his lips, pulling away instantly from the fear of his reaction.

Everyone else near the pool was far too occupied to have noticed. The few seconds of silence between us seemed to drag on forever, my fear only growing. Jonesy’s expression hadn’t changed from his usual thoughtful look. My arms came back down to my sides and I looked down at the rippling water, not wanting to meet the potential scrutiny of his gaze or what he might say.

“Was that also just your second time?” He questioned as nonchalantly as though asking about the color of the sky.

I bit back a smile at his clever remark and attempted a witty reply: “No, but did I do a ‘damn good job’?”

The bassist laughed, giving me a quick gesture of approval. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching before leaning in to whisper in my ear: “Join me in my room?”

Without a moment of hesitation, I nodded quickly.

“Then follow me back inside but act like we’re just going straight to bed so they don’t think something’s up.” He instructed.

I pulled myself up out of the pool, taking a nearby towel to dry myself off and picking my dress up from the ground. Jonesy followed my lead. Only when we started leaving the gated-off pool area, Bonzo jeered at us about going to bed at a reasonable time. The others jumped in, a few actually guessing what our real plans were but as part of their joke. I flipped off a roadie that made a particularly vulgar comment.

“You all should go to bed or you’ll have a romantic view of the sunrise together and then refuse to get up tomorrow.” I warned them.

“We can sleep on the plane in a few days!” Bonzo called. “Besides, Jimmy’s already passed out on the chair.”

With a dismissive pass of my hand, I went out of the pool area and followed Jonesy at an inconspicuous distance. Most of the rooms all faced the courtyard so it was slightly difficult to slip into the same room together without catching anyone’s attention. I managed to dash in through his open door while everyone was distracted with planning on playing some prank on the snoozing guitarist.

The room was dark as I shut the door and I couldn’t see anything so I called out for the bassist’s assistance, only to receive no response. Instead, Jonesy’s hand took mine and guided me blindly through the dark. He switched on the lamp on the nightstand, dimly illuminating the room. Before I could react, he kissed me so firmly I had to lean against the bed in order not to lose my balance. A flooding heat burned through my chest and down to my core, my hands reaching up to the sides of his face as I lied down on my back. There were still cool water droplets from the pool over my body and in my hair, now soaking into the fabric cover of the bed. Meanwhile a different kind of wetness soaked into the fabric of my swimsuit.

I had to push him back, my lungs burning for air and I took the chance to make a comment: “Now that was my second time.”

“Not bad at all.”

Before he could go much further, a knock came at the door and both of us groaned under our breaths. There was no ignoring it since whoever it was probably knew Jonesy had just gone back to his room. He lifted himself up from me, face flushed pink, and went to just barely crack open the door. From outside, I could hear Jimmy’s soft voice asking him something about an idea for a song he had but paused in the middle of his sentence.

“Your face is quite red.” The guitarist observed. “And you seem out of breath.”

“I ran to the door and it’s warm outside.” Jonesy fibbed.

“Then you must also be incredibly happy to see me.”

The bassist sighed, “We can talk about the song tomorrow before the show, is there anything else you need to tell me?”

“Be safe.” Jimmy advised before calling louder: “Hi, Y/N!”

“Go to bed, Jimmy.”

His giggly laugh was the response I got before Jonesy shut the door at his bandmate. I propped myself up on my elbows, otherwise still in the same position of being slung over the bed. My eyes followed him as he came towards me again, only this time his hands came in contact with my skin, tugging lightly at the top straps of the scanty, drenched swimsuit that I was wearing. I obliged with his implications, playing with his waistband in return and receiving another deep collision of his lips onto my own.


	6. if you're going to san fransisco (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> nsfw

There was a disturbance in the air, a quiet hum or electric buzz blowing through San Francisco. Everything appeared as it normally did relatively early in the morning—people quietly milling about on the sidewalks, cars driving up the steep roads, shop doors dinging as a customer walked in, distant music playing from somewhere, and tree branches rustling in the wind. An outsider wouldn’t feel it but, I noticed the change.

I turned down the street and found the hotel building where an old acquaintance was spending a long weekend at. She’d called me the other day to invite me over and spend some time with her so I took up her offer, now feeling glad I did since she was more likely to have an explanation for this change in the air than anyone else I knew. Asking the front desk clerk where room 34 was and receiving some brief instruction, I followed the directions up to the specified hotel room. My hand knocked at the smooth wood of the door and I stood there expectantly on the crimson red carpet.

“Hey there stranger!” Was the greeting that welcomed me inside once the door was opened for me.

“Hi P, how are you?” I asked, following her inside and seating myself in a chair by the window overlooking the city.

Pamela shut the door behind me and eagerly sat on the bed to face me. A bright smile was on her jovial face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before answering my question. There was always something so radiant about her character that it was hard to dislike being near her.

“Well, have you heard the news? I’ve got to get back to LA fast. And why don’t you come with me? That is, if you’re free of course.”

I furrowed my brows, “No…what’s happening?”

“There’s a band touring America for the first time and they have a show over in LA tomorrow night, I wanna go see ‘em. I just know you either love ‘em already or will love their music. Would you come along?”

“Let me guess, you’re not talking about buying tickets to the concert?”

A bashful smile came over her face as she nodded, “Well you’re not gonna get too close to ‘em in the crowd compared to being backstage, Y/N.”

I considered her offer, not really being someone ready to take on such a spontaneous venture at such short notice. My final decision was going to need a little more information.

“Who’s the band?”

“They’re called Led Zeppelin.”

My hesitation completely disappeared and I simply nodded in response with wide eyes. Pamela laughed at my amazement, only saying that she knew I loved them already and saying that we’d better get a move on to have a plan ready for the following night. She had her suitcase packed and told me she’d drive me home so I could pack quickly then spend the night over at her place.

The streets were busier as the sun glowed hotter over the region of southern California and we drove together down the road towards her home. Music played over the radio while we chatted about what P had done over her short vacation, most of it consisting of visiting shops and sleeping. Even after being in the area for a while, both of us still took up tourist-y activities and found new things to do. The area was just so full of life and picturesque just to drive through.

We reached her house not too long after, even though we took a very scenic route with a few detours on the way to get ice cream and visit a few other places as per P’s necessary pre-concert errands. The evening we spent together was relaxing as we killed time watching shows, sitting on the couch beside one another with several plush pillows and a bright-colored blanket. P also shared her plan for tomorrow night with me.

“Raid my closet if you want, dress as sexy and kitschy as possible. I’ve got a friend who works as a security guard at the theater so he’ll let us slip backstage. If anyone asks, say we’re with the band. Relax, have fun, and follow my lead if you’re unsure what to do.” She said, painting my fingernails a shining cherry red color.

I nodded, thanking her graciously for the invitation as she flipped the channel over to some Marilyn Monroe picture. Pamela sang along to the sultry, yet silly, songs under her breath as she put her hair up in pins and checked over her work on my nails. The room smelled like floral hairspray, sharp alcoholic polish, and buttery popcorn that was left half-abandoned while we waited for the nail polish to dry completely. Just as the film ended, we fell asleep right there in the living room on top of the makeshift fort of pillows and blankets.

Neither of us could sleep very well with the excitement of the concert. My heart was already pounding and the butterflies in my stomach refused to settle down, even at seven in the morning. Pamela too seemed to have a hop in her step as she made some kind of spiced tea for us. After breakfast, we cleaned up the living room from last night. To cheer the space and get rid of some of the nervous jumpy energy, P put on a record. The first-released record of the very people we were going to see in the evening.

The rest of the day was a timeless blur, spent between lounging, eating, and the gradual process of dolling ourselves up. It was fun, practically transforming our appearances to look like the models in Mary Quant ads or go-go dancers in a filmed music performance. She grabbed her polaroid camera, taking a few shots of me then handing it over to me as she posed in some silly position. They’d be souvenirs of the preparation process and the first of a gallery from tonight’s events.

As the sky began to darken and color with warm tones of pink from the setting sun, we headed out towards the concert venue. Lucky for us, P’s house wasn’t too far away from it and we could just walk over. People milled about the streets, a few gawking at our appearances and some heading in the same direction as us. We turned a corner away from the massive crowd outside the main doors of the theater.

The back doors were busy too, a much tenser energy filling the air here as people tried to get in and complete their work to prepare the stage for the band. Gear was being loaded through the big garage doors, security guards stood watch, roadies shouted directions, stage directors shouted other directions, a journalist or two slipped inside the building, and there were even a few other girls hanging around the back trying to sneak in.

Pamela walked right up to one of the entry doors and struck up a conversation with the security guy that she apparently knew: “Hey Johnny, how are ya?”

He gave her a look, “Quit trying to sweet-talk Pam, you know I’ll let you in with or without it. Who’s this?”

“Oh this is my friend, Y/N, who’s coming along with me.”

Johnny gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement in greeting and stepped to the side, allowing us to slip by him through the doorway. Now my heart was really racing. The backstage area was mostly concrete with several people moving about to make things absolutely perfect for the band, whether it was their stage clothing, food, drinks, stage setup, lighting, and any other requests they’d made. No one seemed surprised at our appearance even though we obviously weren’t here to prepare the area so that eased a little bit of my worrying. P took my hand and guided me towards a wall in an expansive room that was just a short hallway away from the stage.

“They’ll come through here to get on stage so if we’re over here they might see us before the show. Don’t gawk at them or anything, just pretend to be talking with me and then turn to face them for a moment so they see you recognized them.”

“You sound like you know what you’re doing.” I noted.

“It’s not my first time doing this.” She retorted with a half-bashful, half-proud smile.

The discussion was interrupted when some of the managers shouted for people to hurry up since the band was coming in. P didn’t seem affected by this news, but I felt even flightier than before, my heart pounding, palms sweating, stomach flipping. I tried fighting off the nerves and play with my hair or fix my glittering outfit into place. My friend could notice my unease, taking my hand in hers and trying to distract me by talking about something completely unrelated.

People started rushing all around us and my gaze kept flitting up. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the band in person but had no luck so far. There was a hush over the conversations in the echoing halls. They would probably be out soon. P continued to talk but now in a quieter voice, also sensing that the band was in their dressing rooms. Minutes seemed to drag on forever as we waited. Every cell in my body felt jittery, like I drank gallons of black coffee and it was kicking in.

Then there were footsteps coming from the opposite side of the room, lots of them. I glanced up for a single moment, recognizing the musicians coming towards us, and looked to P with, probably, the wildest look in my eyes. She smoothly continued our conversation, as though implicitly telling me to relax. But my heart was beating in my ears as they were only a few feet away. Once they were just about two seconds from passing us, Pamela looked towards them and I took that as my hint to follow her lead.

It was hard to make the glance momentary. There they were—the four brilliant musicians in their stage garbs heading out to start the show. Their raven-haired leader led the way in a floral-patterned black ensemble, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. Behind him followed the singer and drummer, conversing together then looking up at us with a quick wave of acknowledgement. Their bassist quietly brought up the rear, his demeanor wholly calm despite the energy of the whole crowd shouting just beyond the wall. I could now die happily, and the evening had only just begun.

P commended me for staying collected, sitting down on the floor with her back on the wall and pulling me down to sit beside her. We could hear the whole show from where we were, the concrete walls only muffling some of the noise and the band being quite loud. The crew gathered in the wings which practically left us alone to talk some more about how the show sounded and our excitement for what was yet to come. A few of the not-busy roadies chatted with us a few times, the additional encore at the end of the two-hour long concert making it continue for an extra twenty minutes or so.

The crowd was cheering even louder than before, beckoning the band to play a few more songs. Their passion and excitement seemed to radiate through the walls and into me since I was still bursting with energy even at a later hour. It was so loud out there that I didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps coming right towards us. I jumped slightly at the feeling of a tap on my shoulder and turned my head, finding it very hard not to drop my mouth to the floor or otherwise express my surprise.

“You two care to join us?” The distinct dialect of Robert (fucking) Plant questioned, a lopsided smile playing on his lips.

I looked to Pamela, who was staring up at him with a bright smile and nodding.

“Follow me then, we’ll be leavin’ in a few minutes and the real festivities ‘ll begin.” He hinted, offering a hand to help me up.

We walked back to the dressing rooms, seeing the musicians unrestrained by the norms of stage presence or public appearances. The buzz of the crowd’s incredible energy had reflected back onto them, conversations turning loud and bodies jittery as the staff tried making them sit down to talk before leaving. A sweat-soaked Jimmy was answering the few questions of a journalist that managed to get backstage, his leg bouncing as he thought of replies. He looked up as the trio of myself, Robert, and Pamela came into the dressing room.

“I think that’ll be it, we’ve got to be leaving.” The guitarist informed, standing back up to greet us quietly while their manager shouted for everyone in the entourage to get into the cars waiting outside.

An arm came over my shoulders and I saw the golden-haired singer beside me, looking down to meet my gaze with a fox’s grin on his lips. As Jimmy came to join us, he stood at Pamela’s side and asked her about the show while everyone started to clear out of the backstage area. We were sorted into the various cars headed towards their hotel for the night. The cold air kissed my face and the moon shone brightly above us, noise from the crowds shuffling out on the other side of the building carrying through the air.

The four of us were crammed together in the backseat but the driver assured us the road to the hotel was very short and we’d be out soon. I, personally, didn’t mind sitting halfway on Robert’s lap and leaning back on P as my heart pattered in my chest. The streetlights reflected our faces on the windows and I saw my own, the smile I couldn’t fight back showing clearly on my painted lips. I turned to face P, making a few faces in conversation and earning the amused confusion of our hosts for the evening.

We parked outside the hotel, shining glass double-doors held wide open for the guests of honor by uniformed staff. The driver hopped out and opened the car doors, bidding each of us a good night. The manager handed out room keys just as we walked into the expansive gold-lit lobby.

“All your things are in your rooms already, just don’t cause any trouble for me.” He instructed with a warning luck, earning a few laughs in response.

“Stop worryin’, when ‘ave we caused ya more trouble than you could deal with?” Robert quipped.

Patterned rugs covered the polished cream-colored stone floors and a huge chandelier hung from the center of the tall ceiling to illuminate the whole room. The furniture and décor were crimson or white with accents of metallic gold shining in the lighting, all in the best of taste. Bouquets of fresh red and white roses were placed over the spotless glass coffee tables beside dark, hard-covered books about philosophy or history. It looked like a picture from a magazine.

As I was frozen in place, the arm around my shoulders guided me towards the golden-doored elevator. Robert chuckled at my doe-eyed wonder at the hotel lobby. P and Jimmy followed behind us into the elevator since apparently their rooms were on the same floor. The doors slid shut slowly and we headed up, a blush-earning kiss being pressed to the crown of my head as a preview of what was to come once all of us were in our respective rooms. Once the quick ride to the fifth floor was over, the bandmates bid each other a good night and split off. The guitarist took Pamela off and struck up a quiet conversation with her.

Robert opened up the door before us, holding it open and welcoming me inside with a motion of his hand. I shyly went in, observing how this expansive room was just as nice and stylish as the lobby area downstairs. Some gold-rimmed mirrors spotted the walls as though in place of windows. Touches of crimson red were added in the furniture and the fresh-cut flowers in golden vases atop various surfaces. A soft white fur rug caught my attention in this living room area and I wanted to reach out to touch it, but my host took my hand. He led me further into the room but didn’t seem interested in spending much time sitting here.

“D’ya want a drink?” He offered, standing beside the wheeled cart of various decanters with amber-colored liquids in them.

“Sure.” I accepted with a smile, taking the slightly filled crystal glass from his hand.

“How’d ya like the show?” Robert asked then tipped his drink back.

“Well, we couldn’t hear it too well through all the backstage walls but it sounded amazing anyways. Besides, I don’t think you guys are capable of playing less than perfectly.”

He raised his brows in challenge, “Ya wouldn’t say that if you’ve gone to the studio an’ heard us play after six hours of recordin’.”

“That doesn’t count, exhaustion is in the way of playing at that point.”

“Ah, right you are. What did ya say your name was?”

“Y/N. And I know yours.”

He smiled, “Lovely name an’ now that the name business is outta the way, care to join me?”

With the glass still in his hand, he gestured towards the few carved stone stairs up to a set of double-doors just to our side. I cocked my head in confusion and put my emptied glass back down onto the cart. He seemed amused with my apparently innocent mind and pulled the doors open to completely illustrate his intentions.

A sumptuous, golden silk-covered bed with a velvety red canopy and more pillows than I thought possible was the focal point of this room. The nightstands each had three sweet-smelling white candles atop them in brassy golden stands. Besides the candles, the overall lighting in the room was quite dim as though to create an ambience of sensuality combined with the deep crimson and white color scheme. I blinked a few times to make sure this wasn’t some heated dream before slowly walking over and up the few little stairs to Robert’s side.

“Lie down at the edge an’ I’ll take care of ya.” He instructed, his hand lightly pushing the small of my back.

I followed along, pressing my back and head against the cool fabric with my legs dangling off the edge. The golden-haired man came closer, standing right over me between my knees and his hands at my mid-thighs to slide up the hem of my mini dress. I watched him with wide eyes and curiosity as to what he’d do next. My body felt like it’d been set aflame and he barely even touched me. The beat of my heart started to race as he leaned down towards me, his fingers brushing away a few strands of hair away from my face. I had a terrible impulse and desire that I couldn’t fight off—I sat up, holding his shoulder and pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips before bashfully leaning back.

“What’d ya do that for?” He asked.

I looked away as my cheeks reddened, “I just thought- well, I’m sorry if I offended yo- “

“Shh, I’m teasin’ darlin’.” He laughed, pushing my head all the way back down onto the sheets with a much more intense reciprocal action.

My fingers tanged into his majestic mane of golden curls, pulling him closer and tugging lightly at his hair. He kissed me back with fervor and hunger, making my head spin as though I was floating. His hands pushed my dress up to my stomach and rested over my thighs. Any of the butterflies in my stomach fluttered even lower now as every cell in my body was lit aflame.

I needed air but didn’t want this feeling to stop. It was like the rest of the world had blurred away and it was just the two of us, twin flames burning against one another on the cool silk—a combination of hell’s burning fire and the inexplicably perfect sensation of being in heaven. The feeling of contrast came physically as well, the softness of our lips pressed together and the deep intensity behind them.

The flash of a bright light and “snap” of a camera broke the spell, followed by two giggling voices. Our attention turned to the unexpected, photo-taking prowlers in the room. Lucky for us, it was just Jimmy and Pamela with P’s polaroid camera playing a joke. They were laughing so hard at our bewilderment and half-embarrassment that they were sitting down on the cool marble floor with tears in their eyes.

“My cheeks hurt, oh my God.” Pamela confessed between laughs, wiping the tear tracks off her cheeks.

“You, my dear, are brilliant.” Jimmy complimented, a toothy smile on his face.

“No, you both are dirty freaks for comin’ in here an’ snappin’ pictures.” Robert argued and didn’t bother to change the position we were in.

I stayed quiet as Pamela shook the polaroid in her hands and showed its faint image to me. The dim yellowy lighting of the room seemed to reflect how I felt into the photograph, adding a goldish warmth onto Robert’s and my skin tone. It also made my hair shine in its styled fashion and my partner’s glittered as though it were genuine gold. The ferocity of our action was seen pretty clearly too: lips firmly pressed against one another, my hands threaded through his curls, our expressions of bliss, the slight redness of Robert’s cheeks. I loved the picture.

“It’s not bad.” I commented, pursing my lips shyly.

The golden-haired god peered over at it and smirked, “You’re right. But surely ya didn’t break in here just to take one measly little picture to mess with us…”

Jimmy defended himself: “Hey! You were the idiot who left all the doors open, Percy, so you can’t say we broke in.”

Pamela, though, caught onto what Robert was saying and put her camera back up to her eyes. The singer took his cue to strike some sort of pose and sank down to press his mouth at my neck, nipping lightly at the skin while glancing at the photographer to take the picture. I couldn’t hold back my surprise as P took the photo, capturing my wide eyes and parted lips. When she showed us this one, Robert instantly stashed it in the back pocket of his jeans.

He also held out his hand, asking for control of the camera and receiving it promptly. Now Pamela and I were the subjects of the photos, lying down beside each other while looking up at the camera. The two musicians directed us around with lopsided smile on their faces. It was odd, I didn’t feel terribly uncomfortable or shy the way I would in front of cameras and these men were practically strangers to me. Not long after, I stole the camera back and pointed it towards them. Needless to say, Pamela and I would have quite the photo gallery once this night was over.

“Now get the fuck out an’ shut all the doors behind yourselves.” Robert instructed after we’d run through all the film and he’d grown impatient.

“Stay safe!” Jimmy remarked in a teasing tone, an arm wrapped around P’s waist as they left the room.

Robert flipped off his bandmate with a smile and locked the door behind them while I sat at the edge of the bed. He almost instantly returned back to me, as though his legs were moving at some inhuman speed. I apologized for not mentioning anything about my friend’s camera and not locking the doors but he assured me it wasn’t my fault at all.

“In fact, thank ‘er for me ‘cause now we’ve got some souvenirs.” He smiled. “Now, where were we?”

Before I could even think of a response, he pushed my frame down so I’d lie back onto the silky bed and retook his position at my neck. His ministrations would surely leave an obvious purple mark, but it felt too good for me to dare ask him to stop. My own hands ventured to his belt, slowly undoing it with his help. Now it seemed as though the whole world was burning around us and there was a buzzing energy in the room, the same that I’d felt the other day in San Francisco as though it’d been a premonition. It sufficed to say that this hum filled the air and electrified the blood in my veins as the night continued on.


	7. ballerina (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> short mention of blood if that bothers you

It was very conflicting for Y/N to be here. One the one hand, there was freedom from formal rules of propriety and the crowd was so highly exclusive that she was amazed she was given the chance of being part of it. On the other hand, she could be easily criticized for exactly how she got invited into the party. No tricks or deceit, just not something she thought her years of training and experience would go towards. But how could someone refuse an invitation to a launch party for a world-renowned group?

The party itself was held in some catacomb-like place with stony walls and floors. Several other “entertainers” were already there amidst the crowd, awaiting the band’s arrival and fixing their appearances for when the real fun would begin. Y/N pulled at parts of the costume she was given to wear for her role as a “dancer” here, somehow feeling much more exposed in this ludicrously revealing piece of clothing than any of the skin-tight, barely-there leotards and stiffened tutus from the ballet corps. Perhaps it was also the lack of artistry and passion in this position, really only being here for the purpose of being looked at or talked to.

With the announcement of the group’s arrival, the room fell into a hush and dozens of gazes were fixed upon the entry way to get that first glance of the band as they came inside. The commodified dancers were huddled at the side of the room, pushed up to the front of the crowd so they’d immediately be noticed. Someone turned on a smoke machine for dramatic effect, letting it gather and swoop across the floor just as the long-awaited guests of honor came through the tunneled entrance. Whoops greeted them and rhythmic, fast-paced music was turned up over the speakers.

The night went by like a blur, so many people doing so many things in so little time. Drinks were handed around, lights flashed, the smoke machine clouded the floor, everyone danced, pictures were taken, and the whole room felt electrified by everyone’s wild energies coming together. Time was completely forgotten in the fun and Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling. By the fourth hour of the party, however, things started to mellow out. Quieter conversations still blossomed between guests on the dance floor or around the bar table.

Y/N was swept to the side by a corralling arm around the curve of her back, her painted eyes widened in surprise as she faced the perpetrator. The man that pulled her aside was easily recognizable with his pale green eyes that contrasted strikingly against the shiny jet black hair that framed his face. A short glass of some kind of clear liquid was in his hand, the elixir emboldening him to be so straight-forward.

“Hello.” Y/N stated simply, slightly starstruck and unsure of the guitarist’s intentions.

“Are you having a good time?” He asked.

“Of course, I just can’t believe this is all real.” She admitted, gesturing to the masquerading crowd and theatricality of everything.

“It gets tiring, all the posturing and pretending.”

“I suppose.” She shrugged. “But I’m used to playing some sort of character, it’s just work. You do the same, I guess, with all your public appearances.”

“That’s why we avoid the public appearances if we can. What do you do then? I’m sorry to say I don’t recognize you.”

Y/N smiled, “I’m not surprised. Unless you frequented the Royal Ballet corps, then I would be surprised.”

Jimmy’s brows quirked upwards, “A ballerina?”

She nodded, a red hue on her cheeks from bashfulness combined from the heat of the party and the alcohol in her system.

“Then what on earth are you doing here with all us ruffians?”

“Ballet isn’t the most profitable and I heard about this whole thing going on. Being a fan of the band and not against gaining a night’s work of pay, here I am.” She explained unashamed, motioning to dolled-up appearance.

“Very reasonable… Care to get some air with me? The crowd and fog machine in such an enclosed space isn’t a good combination.”

Jimmy offered his arm to Y/N, leading her out through the dark tunneled hallway out to the cold night air outside. It was refreshing to both of them compared to the stifling feeling inside the venue. They leaned up against a wall side-by-side, looking up at the clear star-spotted sky and soothing silvery glow of the moon. A breeze chilled their skin and the rustling of leaves was the only sound in the secluded terrain.

The guitarist offered her a cigarette, a comfortable silence falling between them as they puffed little white clouds from between their lips. Being out here started to feel much better than the alternative of being inside, a real conversation threading them together in the clear air. The party was unbelievably fun but Jimmy was right, it was all a load of staged personalities and interactions with empty words.

As the conversation flowed on from talking about travel and performing to philosophy and obscure personal experiences, time seemed to fly by even quicker. Neither of them wanted the night to end, feeling a strange, instant, and deep connection between like souls. The sky began to lighten, a pale lavender color streaking across the distant horizon signaling the coming of a new day. Voices of other guests were carried on through the air as they exited through other tunneled exits and set off to go home, minds still in a buzzing daze.

“We should probably head back home.” Y/N suggested, suddenly noticing her own sleepiness.

“Come back with me.”

It wasn’t a habit of Y/N’s to throw herself at people nor just accept stranger’s offers to go home with them. But some form of deep intuition or fairytale-like familiarity made her feel unhesitant to go along with him, a sense of safety and serene comfort from just hours after first meeting Jimmy. They went back together, riding quietly in the back of a car as they fell asleep with their bodies leaning against each other.

Their time together was intriguing. Several days passing by, hiding out in hotel rooms in the day and roaming around the city at night with an endless span of interesting conversation passed between them. But duties couldn’t be ignored forever, and they parted ways sadly feeling the most intimate, strong bond with each other than with any other person they’d ever encountered. Nothing felt out of place or uncomfortable, as though they somehow knew one another in a past life.

A season of touring went by for Jimmy, life on the road as raucous, chaotic, and tiring as always. Y/N went back to the theatre, feeling the productive soreness and physical exertion of her work as she did before. Only now there was a more subtly expressive in the energy that she devoted into her intricate choreography. She was rewarded well with better roles and further recognition in her industry.

The band finally returned home and was given some time to rest, as well as come up with new ideas for music. They spent a few days recording an idea brought up during the tour in London, just before heading back to their separate homes. Starting fairly early in the morning and playing until the early evening, everyone was exhausted, but a song had been completed. The rhythm section headed off immediately to go see their families. Jimmy had an idea… and may have roped Robert into it.

After checking the time, Jimmy almost started running through the busy streets as his loyal friend tried to catch up with him and wondered what the rush was for. They jostled through the sidewalks, seeing the evening rush of people either going out or trying to go home. Turning a corner and walking to the middle of the lane, Jimmy dragged him through the gold-rimmed glass doors of a theatre. There were thick red velvet curtains blocking off the lobby area from where the stage was and a line of dressed-up older people waiting to get to their seats.

But the raven-haired guitarist was far too anxious to wait in the long line. He sought out someone of the staff to let him in early and showed them the tickets he’d purchased to the show earlier while explaining that he didn’t want to cause any trouble. The uniformed woman understood and pulled back the velvet curtains to let them in, Robert confusedly following along. They were seated very close to the stage, Jimmy’s eyes already fixed upon it even though the curtains were drawn.

Robert took the opportunity to question his bandmate: “What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?” Jimmy answered, his leg bouncing in his seat and eyes never leaving the vacant stage.

“Listen, as much as I like the romantic gesture of watchin’ some show, ya seem nervous an’ ya don’t really do this usually.”

He turned to face him momentarily and handed him the little pamphlet, “Read over the program.”

“La Bayadère??” Robert asked, half-butchering the French name.

“The title doesn’t matter.” Jimmy huffed.

However many times the singer scanned over the paper, he couldn’t understand what was going on but decided not to bother Jimmy until later. The theatre was starting to fill with the crowd from the line outside and the pit orchestra under the stage could be heard warming up. Soon enough the in-house lights darkened, the curtains onstage were drawn apart, and lights illuminated the carved set pieces that the colorfully dressed men danced out from behind.

Neither of them really knew what was going on, Robert having a shade of an idea after scanning through the pamphlet a few times. There were just several dancers dressed in colorful, loose garbs and dramatic makeup prancing around the stage. Several men were up on the stage wearing some kind of metal headpieces, insinuating that they were some kind of nobles or warriors as they jumped around, but the women seemed to be doing more of the actually intricate movements. The music was interesting for its technical qualities and how it was danced to on stage, but it was still fairly unexciting on its own.

A few dances into the show and both of them were about to fall asleep, the exhaustion of recording all day starting to creep in. They were slumped over in their cushioned seats with half-shut eyelids, Robert looking at Jimmy in concern while Jimmy kept trying to focus on the stage as though not wanting to miss a single moment. Suddenly, he livened at the arrival of a gold-veiled feminine figure on the stage. As her veil was removed by a notable crowned man, she began to spin in her knee-length, gold embroidered pale green skirt and contort her body in impossible ways to the soft tune of a flute.

The character soon spun off the stage when she was offered the man’s crown, or perhaps it was his unwelcomed advances, and Jimmy sat back as the ensemble took over the stage again. They filed into of the makeshift temple doors, clearing the stage while the song came to an end with the crowned man’s rejection. The female figure came back alone and enchanted the audience with her airy dance in the blue lighting. Her costume shimmered in the lights and the long skirt swirled around her body, reacting to the movements of her elegant legs, while her beautiful smiling face radiated a sense of purity. She spun and kicked and leapt and stretched into poses as if her body was lighter than air.

A different man entered the scene, catching her attention immediately and she flew across the floor on the very tips of her toes before leaping right into his arms. He swung her around victoriously and they danced together, only to be broken apart by the nobleman’s guards. The rest of the story followed along this love-triangle trope, the simpler man already having been engaged on the side and inviting his not-so-secret lover to dance at his wedding. She begins somberly, playing a small version of the sitar as she performed. Now she was in a short crimson-colored tutu, reflecting the much happier, challenging, passionate dance she bursts into after noticing his adoring gaze focused on her.

It comes to a sad conclusion with the jealous wife putting a snake in the heroine’s bouquet of flowers to bite and kill her. As she slowly died in an intricately-carved gold palace, the nobleman offers her an antidote to the venom in exchange for her love but she becomes so revolted that she choses death over a life with him and collapses in the other man’s arms. After the wedding, the simpler man sees a dream of the beautiful heroine in some version of heaven. An elegant ensemble of swan-like ballerinas gather around her as they dance together. They slip to the sides of the stage as he imagines himself with her one last time.

The audience roared and stood up in their seats, applauding the performers for their unbelievable talent. Jimmy stood up with them in absolute captivation and even whistled when the ballerina playing the heroine came out of the wings for a bow. His bandmate quickly connected all of the dots, grabbing the guitarist by the arm and dragging him out of the theatre.

“What are you doing?!” He questioned, trying to fight his way out of his strong friend’s arms.

“Gettin’ ya backstage.”

With that, Jimmy didn’t resist being prodded along.

They made it to the stage doors and asked to see the leading ballerina, Jimmy explaining how they knew her from before so they wanted to congratulate her. The tired old manager shrugged and explained where her dressing room was, letting them slip inside. Several of the dancers were roaming down the hall looking much less poised than they had moments before on stage as they put on some proper shoes to go out for a smoke.

Her dressing room door was shut so Jimmy reached up a hesitant hand to knock. He suddenly realized in vain that he probably should’ve brought her some flowers after the show. Robert stood at his side, an encouraging smile on his face that reassured him everything would be fine. A muffled voice came from the other side of the heavy door, then a light pattering of footsteps, and the door opened.

There she stood, still wearing the crimson costume with all its embellishments and the golden ballet slippers. A look of recognition passed over Y/N’s face as she understood who these visitors were and she shyly invited them inside, requesting they sit on the small couch while she seated herself back down at the vanity.

“I’m entirely flattered that you both attended the show, but I must admit that wasn’t my best performance. I was so nervous.” She confessed, taking off the heavy gold headpiece and placing it on the counter.

“We thought it was absolutely lovely an’ we, well I, didn’t really anticipate our presence in the audience tonight either.” Robert quipped.

She cocked her head, “What do you mean?”

Jimmy looked down at the floor as he explained: “Well, I may have dragged Robert along with me right after we finished in the studio and didn’t tell him what we were doing.”

His eyes dared to look back up and gauge her reaction, noting a rather pleased but bashful smile on her light rose-stained lips. Taking it as encouragement, he continued with his elaboration of why he had bothered to come see her after so many months had gone by.

“…and well I thought since you came to see us that one night, I could come to see you in your real work. I only feel bad we didn’t bring you anything to congratulate you, Y/N.”

“Don’t feel too bad, my character dies because of a bouquet of flowers given to her after a dance so maybe that would’ve been bad luck.” Y/N reasoned.

Robert piped up, looking between the ballerina and his bandmate: “Maybe we, or rather Jimmy, can take ya out instead?”

The girl blushed profusely but nodded, half-guiltily accepting the generous offer. Robert excused himself, giving her a kiss on the hand and congratulating “Jimmy’s tiny dancer” once more before heading back to the hotel. He would have to get up early to drive back down to his family’s home and didn’t want to risk staying up too late then being exhausted at the wheel.

And then there were two…

“Jimmy, I need to change out of this costume. Do you mind waiting outside the door?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

He respectfully got up and followed her request, only to be asked back into the room a moment later.

“I’m sorry, usually I have one of the other girls do this for me but it looks like everyone left. Can you untie and loosen the corset on the back of my costume?” Y/N asked, turning around and motioning to the silk ribbon criss-crossed down her back.

Jimmy obliged, carefully playing with the tight knotted bow in the ribbon until it was loose and fully untied. He shifted the slack through the rest of the ribbon and pulled apart the sides of the leotard’s fabric until he could see a fair amount of Y/N’s bare back. She thanked him profusely, breathing out a sigh that she’d been holding in since the corset was tightly set into place hours earlier.

As the ballerina sat down on the stool at her vanity, she wondered why her guest was still firmly standing in the dressing room. He came towards her and kneeled down, untying the silk ribbons of her slippers from around her ankles just as gently as he did the corset. Something in the simple action was so intimate to Y/N that she felt inexplicably breathless again, only able to thank him quietly.

He stood back up, having untied the ribbons and went to go stand outside her dressing room as she finished changing out of the costume. Y/N was relieved that he hadn’t taken the slippers off, her abused, overworked feet not a pleasant sight after performing one of the most difficult ballets in the industry. Slipping off the rest of the clothes and jewelry, she put on a loose, white baby-doll dress then shed her pink tights underneath it. She cleaned off the blood from her toes and grabbed her belongings, stepping into a pair of comfortable shoes before leaving.

The pair were already sleepy from their work, just as when they first met, but something livened in them when they were out on the streets and participating in the night life together. They stopped at a small café, both of them too excited to really eat much of anything. Afterwards, they roamed past all of the crowded pubs and shops to the quiet gardens amidst the flat buildings. Sitting side-by-side at a bench, they seemed to pick up just where they’d left off months prior, gazing up at the same moon and the same pattern of glittering stars overhead. A warm, early-autumn breeze still drifted through the air as they spoke.

An hour passed by and Jimmy had Y/N follow him back to the hotel he was staying at, not too far a distance away to walk. The ballerina’s feet were exhausted so she leaned against her host as she went along with his guidance. There was something reassuring in him merely being around her, a surprisingly strong feeling given that he hadn’t made any obvious advances besides seeing the show that night. But maybe it was the way it was meant to be — distant, like desiring the warmth of a fire but never touching the flames.


	8. nature god (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x fem!reader   
> no warnings, just kind of an au  
> response to zeppelin fic challenge #8

There was always something of a mythic nature about these woods, chaotic in nature’s spontaneous way with quiet dangers lurking amidst the light filtering through the tree branches. It wasn’t the first time I’d ventured inside before, but this time I came with intention—I needed help. I’d found an old leather-bound journal, perhaps a grimoire, with various incantations and lists of ingredients. The book remained untouched by me for a while but some sort of gut feeling told me that I needed to use it for this. 

So I followed along the barely-visible path of the long-untrodden trail, now overgrown with thorny blackberry bushes, curling green ferns, and spongy moss. The foliage was all varying shades of cheerful springy green from the early summer sun and everything seemed to be dancing softly in the light breeze blowing through the forest. Little blue and purple wildflowers dotted the fields of greenery. Birdsong melodiously echoed down from the treetops, creating the only noise besides my footsteps and the rustling leaves. It smelled of the previous day’s rainfall and morning dew, a scent I could never tire of.

I kept going on, past the babbling brooks and mirroring ponds, past the golden light-bathed glen, past the region made shadowy by the sheer density of trees. There were no instructions for where to stop so I went further on until I reached an opening near a meadow. Staying within the wooded area, I positioned myself to face the sunny clearing and carefully planted myself down onto the grass.

From my pocket, I removed a few branches of dried rosemary and opened up the grimoire to the page I’d been studying. I followed its directions of a beckoning spell, lighting two of the branches on fire with a flit of my fingertips. As I placed down the burning rosemary, I became acutely aware of the energy within me and closed my eyes lightly to focus on its distribution.

The breeze picked up, swirling my hair around my face almost as though trying to distract me from concentration. I dropped in a pinch of the drawing powder I made the night before, the scent of cinnamon and anise melding with the savory rosemary. The small fire burned warmly as it grew with the powder, unnaturally so as the wind rushed against it. I could sense my energy gathering in my chest and fingers as I spoke out the written incantation:

“Blessed rosemary, I call unto thee;

Summon the one that I seek to come to me.”

My energy seemed to drift out from me with the wind, the fire set before me completely burned out. There wasn’t any noticeable change when I opened my eyes and looked out to see the exact same meadow. A deer peered at me from the other side of the woods. My hands trembled from the energy drained out of me and I felt my body quiver in the cold breeze, waiting patiently for something to happen. But a few moments passed just the same and I gave up, assuming that maybe my powers weren’t strong enough yet to fulfill the spell.

I stood up on shaky legs, brushing myself off and making sure I still had the grimoire in my hands. With a disappointed sigh, I turned around to go back the way I came from. After all that preparation and thought that went into this moment nothing came out of it. Maybe I just needed to hone in on my concentration more, empower my energy better, follow an actual map to a spot rather than wandering aimlessly, something more specific than the method I’d just used.

As I started to take my first steps back down the trail, there was a tap on my shoulder. I froze in place. Maybe it was just a trick of the brain, some little manifestation of the hope still inside me. But I was so sure that I’d felt it. Now that I thought about it, I could sense that there was someone or something standing behind me. I reasoned with myself over whether or not to just be on my way. Then again, what was there for me to lose? Before I could decide, something else answered all my questions for me.

“You called?”

A feeling of hope stirred in my heart as I turned around hastily. There he was, standing calf-deep in the overgrown dewy grass with his hands on his hips. A lopsided smile was playing at his lips and there was an expectantly mischievous glint in his dark eyes. Little flowers of pink and blue sprang through his golden curls, as though they grew within his hair. There was no confusing this nature-god-in-human-form for any other being and I couldn’t help the successful grin forming on my face.

Finding me speechless, he continued: “Very rude to summon someone an’ leave ‘em hangin’ like this.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m just surprised that it worked.”

“You’re a talented little sorceress, no surprise in that. Now, why don’t ya tell me what I’m here for?”


	9. session player (john paul jones x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Paul Jones x musician!reader  
> nsfw

I was buzzing, absolutely restless and stuck in the studio with the rest of the guys. They were listening through the final version of the new album, rearranging the songs and deciding whether or not to add extra overlays of guitar or other instrumentation. Each of us were seated closely on the couch or in the chairs, listening intently to the music and pausing after each song to discuss their ideas. Normally they wouldn’t want anyone else to hear the final product before it was done, including partners, but my services were required should they decide to add certain instruments they didn’t specialize in playing.

“I guess I’ll sit on the floor…” I started.

“No, that’s nonsense.” Jonesy cut in, his arm moving from my waist to my hand.

“Yeah, jus’ come sit on my lap.” Robert teased, sending me a wink.

“Y’know Y/N’s got a boyfriend… and you have a wife.” The bassist pointed out as he sat down, instead pulling me downwards onto his own lap.

I complied but sympathized for him after a half-hour of music and discussions about it, the position obviously not that comfortable for either of us. The discussion itself was starting to bore me too since they would debate for a while and then end up deciding that the song was good the way it was. My lingering and energetic mind was apparently swayed by some of the raunchy lyrics, Robert’s visceral vocals making my thoughts roam towards troublemaking.

All of the other guys were busy debating, giving me a perfect opportunity to do something a little risqué. It’s not like they could judge me anyways. At least not after some of the shit I’ve heard about and seen them do whilst on tour. I shifted around on Jonesy’s lap, sitting sideways and leaning my head against his shoulder. He didn’t think much of it and loosely curled an arm over my hip, drawing figure eights with a finger over my jeans. I reached my hand down and palmed him through his pants as my eyes observed his sudden change in countenance, now much stiffer than before.

My hand continued as I adjusted my body around to shield what I was doing, boldly daring to unzip his fly and reaching through to taunt him a bit further. That made him flash a warning look towards me as I tried to hide my mischievous smile against his shoulder. Just by pure luck, Jimmy chose that moment to direct a question towards him.

“Well, what d’ya think?” Robert asked after a few moments of silence.

“’Bout what?” The bassist finally responded through gritted teeth.

“Overlaying the guitar with Y/N playing it up an octave on violin or something.” Jimmy piped up.

“Uh, umm, whatever you want.” He responded, discomfort clear in his voice.

Now the whole band and the producer turned to look at him, confusion all over their faces. John looked absolutely bashful under their eyes, almost like he wanted to sink into the couch away from their view, and lips pursed in anger with me. There was no way he’d ever admit what was making him so uncomfortable to them but I knew I’d never hear the end of it the minute we were alone. I kept teasing him, taking the opportunity to mess with him without consequence.

“Well, let’s try it and see.” Jimmy decided, calling me up from my seat.

I casually stood up, hearing Jonesy hiss from the loss of friction from my hand and immediately crossing his legs. As the others shot him another look of concern, I was already going through the other side of the glass wall to pick up my instrument and put the headphones on to hear Jimmy’s instructions. My lovely, sweet boyfriend was now glaring at me from his seat on the couch as I tried to bite back a smirk. A quiet conversation had arisen from that side as I started to fiddle around on the fingerboard, playing Jimmy’s riff on my instrument and trying out different fingerings. My focus had to be completely on the music to avoid Jonesy’s death glare.

“Just go for it, Y/N. Your tone sounds great.” The guitarist instructed, pressing record right afterwards.

I took a deep breath in preparation as the song started in my headphones. In truth, I didn’t really know the piece all that well and was mostly guessing what I should play based on the melody. I played along, trying to mirror the scratchy but powerful guitar part to accompany Robert’s raspy moans, Bonzo’s thundering drumming, and the low heartbeat of Jonesy’s bass line. The first take was done so I brought my violin down to my side and looked to the band for their notes.

Everyone looked fairly pleased with the sound, understanding the slight roughness from the spontaneity of my part being added. The only person who still didn’t look too pleased was the band’s bassist, a deadpanned anger still obvious in his expression. Robert leaned over the sound board table, pressing the button on the intercom with his signature lopsided smile etched over his lips to make a comment.

“Can you play bass by chance? That was wonderful an’ our current one seems a bit too quiet, even for ‘imself. I think he’s unwell.”

I bit back my laughter, “Sorry Robert, I don’t. And I promise you he’s definitely not sick. Just temporarily… indisposed, for lack of a better word.”

At this, any mean glare was gone and there was just a cold neutrality over Jonesy’s face. This intimidated me far more than any sign of evident anger since he was unreadable, and it meant that I’d pushed him further than just teasing. It also meant that I would be in deeper trouble than I would’ve been had I not bantered about it with Robert, out loud, in front of his other bandmates. That fact alone prevented me from continuing on the jokes with the others.

“Aww, you never told us you were as filthy as we are Jonesy!” The golden-haired singer mocked further.

“What a hypocrite.” Jimmy mumbled.

“Alright, we’re all dirty gits. Now are we usin’ the bloody fiddle or not?” Bonzo piped up, changing the subject since he was tired and also sympathized for his fellow rhythm section partner.

The debate began again, continuing on for almost an hour with Jonesy’s stone-cold voice adding input into the dialogue. Everyone seemed to like the combination of the two stringed instruments playing in unison but the rough tone of the overall song was only hindered by it. So the part was scrapped from this song but still considered for a different one in the future where the timbre would work better. I shrugged, happy to have helped, and put my instrument away carefully. The rest of the album was approved unanimously and was set to be released once records could be printed.

We bid each other goodnight, the weariness that had been evident in everyone’s eyes at the end of the session fading away with the prospect of the rest of the night. Dread set into my mind as each person went their separate ways, well Robert and Jimmy going separately from the group together. The frighteningly calm bassist leading me back towards the car with an arm circling my hips as a silent reminder of my impropriety earlier.

Once we were out of earshot, he leaned in towards my ear: “You’re quite the troublemaker, Y/N.”

I nearly stopped in my tracks, wishing I could shrink away from John now that he finally had the freedom to get back at me for what I pulled at the studio. My face flushed and I remained silent in response.

“Don’t be shy now…” He remarked, opening up the car door for me before getting into the driver’s seat.

The ride home was silent besides the radio playing quietly, John staying collected and myself too afraid to try retorting or changing the subject. I knew his bandmates wouldn’t let him live it down even if they were far wilder, just because he was above that kind of brash behavior. That only meant that now I was in trouble with him.

He parked the car and I tried to speed-walk inside the front door before John could get to me, my heart beating in my chest at the rush of a chase. Before I could even make it to the door, his hand firmly grasped my wrist. My breath was caught in my lungs knowing that I was caught, but my pulse was still racing in anticipation.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, love, not after that stunt you pulled in front of everyone today when we were supposed to be working not publicly fucking.”


	10. anticipation (robert plant x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x reader  
> no warnings

I had to show up at the theater door almost a full day before the gig would even start and practically run to the stage before other people could file in, but it certainly paid off. There I stood, standing at the very front of the crowd and easily able to touch the stage. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and anticipation for the show about to come. The hall grew louder and louder with every minute as people caught onto that same excited energy. It was like a storm was gathering, lightning ready to strike at any moment. 

The instruments were up there on the stage, gleaming even in the dim light. So many months had passed with me daydreaming about this show, imagining exactly how I would dress and what songs they’d play and how they’d interact with the audience. It was so surreal to finally be here, however un-dreamlike and stressful it was beginning to be in reality.

I could feel sweat under my arms as the crowd piled closer in, hopefully only minutes away from the band coming onstage. Some people were shouting over the quieter conversations and riling up everyone else in their vicinities. Soon the cacophony was starting to feel like too much, especially paired with the prolonged anticipation bubbling in my chest and the tendrils of nerves creeping into my head.

Cheers rose in the crowd as all of the lights were completely extinguished, signaling the band’s entry. There were a few warm-up notes or drumbeats, the band testing their instruments momentarily, and then the onstage lights blazed yellow. The audience whooped and clapped at the band’s appearance, on the very peak of the adrenaline rush knowing that the first blaring notes were only seconds away. A surge of what felt like pure starlight flowed through my body.

It was like a hundred pins were pricking my heart and my body was practically buzzing, then I was struck by lightning…or rather the opening riff to Rock’ N’ Roll. My eyes were glued to the stage and shifted between each of the musicians: the hair-tossing singer with his mewling vocals, the drummer throwing his head back as he bashed the drum heads with full force, the bassist bouncing on his heels along to the energetic music, the sharp-dressed guitarist rocking back and forth while moving his fingers over the neck at an unbelievable speed. I couldn’t believe my own eyes.

The first song was over before my mind could grasp what was going on. My body was pulsating with the energy of the crowd and the band, an electric charge being pumped through my veins instead of blood. I gazed up at the band as they shuffled around, exchanging positions and instruments in preparation for the next song. The golden-haired singer took center stage as he conversed with the audience.

“Good evenin’!” Robert shouted, extending the microphone out towards the back rows. “We’d like to have you clap along to this next one.”

A harmonica was quickly added onto the microphone as he replaced it into the stand. His bandmates started the beat for us and he pressed his lips against the instrument—Bring it on Home. The song began with all focus up at the mic stand, Robert switching between vocals and harmonica seamlessly. He hummed out the final note before the rest of the band kicked in, a driving energy pushing the song forth. I let my body sway and rock to the song, not knowing nor caring what I looked like, with a doe-eyed gaze fixed up at the band in wonder the whole time.

As the night rolled on through the setlist, I let myself get more and more loose to the songs. During the Dazed solo, I couldn’t help but stare at Jimmy work his magic(k) in the green-tinted lights and fog. The No Quarter piano solo was so sophisticated and complex that I was amazed how it was just improvised on the spot by the incredible Jonesy. Moby Dick left me with my jaw dropped as Bonzo’s arms moved so quickly I could barely see them. I danced along with the singer’s own provocative little dances as he moaned into the microphone, the sound penetrating my core and making me throw my head back.

Just as they introduced Whole Lotta Love, I threw a de-thorned little bunch of roses onto the stage and they landed at the singer’s heeled boots. A lopsided smile made its way over his lips as he bent over to pick up the bunch, noticing the thorns had been clipped off, and pressed the stems past the waistband of his pants so just the flowers stuck up over the belt. My eyes widened, and then my jaw dropped again when he introduced the song:

“We hope to seduce some of you with this one…” He trailed off vaguely before looking down slightly, and it wouldn’t have been too bold to say he was looking at me.

I couldn’t look away but grooved along to the brash song in place. The singer’s dances before may have been provocative and now they just turned practically obscene. With one hand he held the microphone to his mouth, while the other pressed over his jeans right below where he’d placed his bouquet of roses. The crowd only cheered louder and my body was back to humming with energy, butterflies starting to flutter in the very pit of my abdomen at such a sight. It was only heightened by his occasional glances in my direction towards the middle of the song.

Two more songs were played after that, and then they were called back onto the stage by the audience demanding an encore. The band kindly complied, playing a few covers and extra songs off the albums that they otherwise didn’t perform. But I didn’t really get to see these songs performed, as a member of their crew called me aside from the masses of people, telling me that I was invited backstage once the show was over and I’d have to follow him back now as they finished the encore. My thoughts might’ve been hazy, my ears buzzing, and overall in a state of ecstasy, but my mind couldn’t be clearer in making this decision. I was perfectly aware of what this might mean, given the very indiscreet introduction to Whole Lotta Love, and followed behind the crew member backstage.


	11. as tears go by (robert plant x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x reader  
> a little angsty but fluffy

It was an overwhelming feeling through my whole body, like waves flooding higher and higher over my head until I felt like I was drowning. It was though every concern in my mind was being piled on top of all the others, bound to crash down to the ground at any moment. This mental hurricane was storming through my head for a while, dim evening light coming through the half-draped windows and gradually darkening with each passing minute. I couldn’t think of anything to do, it all seemed so pointless in the big picture.

I’d put on some suitable music in hopes to let out my bad mood and get on with all my tasks, but nothing seemed to be helping. The thoughts stirred through my head like a broken record even when I got up and tried to do a few menial thingsat the very least. Broad and existential ideas troubled me just as terribly, if not more, than the personal concerns. Why couldn’t people just get along and love one another? Why couldn’t things be fair? Why couldn’t people respect others’ personal choices that don’t affect other people at all? What was the purpose behind all the turmoil and hate in the world? What’s the truth about everything?

Through my distraction, I felt a tear track running down my cheek and quickly wiped it away. The worst thing was that I couldn’t think of a single thing that I could do about it, so why did I feel so bothered by it? Why was I spending my energies in this state if I had no power to create change? These questions were also left answered. The darkness outside lingered in through the windows and left the room lit only by the oncoming moonlight, my mindlessness making me forget to turn the lights on. I sank back down to the ground in the dark, alone with my thoughts.

My hands didn’t reach up to wipe away my tears now as they flowed down my face, and my heart was dully aching in my chest. I lied down on my stomach, shutting out my surroundings and hiding my tear-stained face. It felt like the weight of the world had crushed me down onto the floor, I was no Titian Atlas after all. My body shuddered with every slight sob and breath. Everything within me was flowing out in the most un-glamorous way, my mind so muddled and confused that I didn’t care.

I couldn’t even hear the footsteps approaching me, nor my name being called. It wasn’t until a gentle hand reached for my shoulder that I figured out Robert came home. A feeling of warmth and embarrassment flooded my mind now, my hands reaching up to hide the evidence of my crying bout. I smiled genuinely from the comfort he brought me in that moment and being completely unable to hide it. There was a concern in his face, eyes looking me up and down to make sure I was alright as he turned me over in his arms. He reassuringly ran a hand through my hair, gaze fixed at my face for a few moments before clutching me closely to his chest.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked softly.

My hands fisted the back of his shirt as I fell apart again, staining the light fabric with my tears.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s alright, jus’ let it out an’ maybe we can talk about it later.”

I nodded against his chest, embracing him tightly as I finally felt some relief from the thoughts that’d plagued me. More tears fell from my eyes but these were of happiness rather than pain or sadness. The comfort and care I felt just from him being here was the best reassurance. It made me feel lucky and so thankful to have someone with me; I wasn’t completely alone.

There was a feeling of safety and warmth from his embrace. My heart still felt like it was in my stomach, but now there was a sense of hope spreading through my veins and I leaned my forehead against his shoulder. His hands smoothed over the back of my head and down my back as I let out the rest of my quiet cries. Rain pattered softly against the windows.

Robert drew back, keeping his arms around me. His eyes looked me up and down again with the same furrow of concern in his brows. My eyes met his now and a small smile was starting to curl at my lips, revealing his method of comfort to be very successful. He mirrored my smile, its characteristic lopsidedness warming my heart. It always seemed to make him look just a bit mischievous in the best way possible and it cheered me up.

“Are you feelin’ better?”

I giggled shakily and answered: “Yes, thank you.”

He wiped my face, “Good. Now, let’s have some tea an’ you can tell me what happened.”


	12. "just listen..." (jimmy page x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> heated but not entirely nsfw

We sat in the dim evening light, the pale moon already visible in the darkening sky. I was given the instructions to simply close my eyes. Apparently, Jimmy had a solution to my stress from a lack of creativity in my work, involving several pumpkin-colored candles and whatever else he had planned to do while my eyes were shut. The scent of the sweet, melting wax was slightly comforting as a light veil of rain tapped at the window. Jimmy had put on a record, something older than anything they typically played on the radio and very evocative even within a mere fifteen seconds of listening.

“Just listen and relax.” He instructed, the tone of his voice seeming somehow even softer.

“What is this?”

“Romantic era symphonic pieces. No words or anything so they don’t affect what you feel. Now hush.”

I pursed my lips, following his directions and letting myself just listen to the piece. It seemed to unfold slowly in the beginning, like the petals of a blossoming white rose. There was an austere nature to the woodwinds at the start as though it were a thick fog over a dark, distant forest and then the violin came in. It was soft, playing above the other instruments but still keeping its melancholic tone. Trills were like the flapping of crow’s wings. Cadences up to high notes sent a tremble down my spine. The flute took over the melody, echoing it with such a gentleness. As the tension grew and resolved repeatedly when the violin came back in, I could feel my heart soar in my chest. The piece seemed to almost bittersweetly dissolve at the end, like a daydream.

“Tchaikovsky’s Canzonetta.” Jimmy said, finally revealing the title to me.

A new piece came on: heart-wrenchingly dark in tone and the melodic line growing deeper, reminding me of a bouquet of wilting flowers. The vibrato sounded almost like quiet sobs layered upon one another. More instruments joined in, lending a slightly brighter feeling for a moment before the piece became heavier. It was like seeing the morning sky clear away the troubles of the day before, the sun rising with a new sense of hope. The ending was a recapitulation of the theme, emboldened by a timpani thundering away and the longing sound of the violins’ part that gave way to a cheerful final note. I pictured golden sunlight was peeking over a faraway hill, breaking away all the gloomy grey clouds of the early morning.

“Puccini’s Manon Lescaut, Intermezzo.”

“Isn’t that an opera?”

“Yes, but this section’s instrumental. Now, let’s try one more piece and remember to keep your eyes closed.” He remarked.

I heard him shuffling through the stack of records he’d taken off the shelf for something new. Jimmy’s reminder had me feeling a bit nervous since I hadn’t broken his rule so he had to be up to something. His footsteps scuffled around over the floor as he found the record he was looking for. There was a silence for a moment, then I heard his footsteps come slightly closer, then the piece began to play and my focus on it masked any other sounds.

A single swirling oboe melody opened the scene, the stereotypical intervals of the notes creating a scene of a sun-bathed Middle Eastern land. I could almost feel its warmth against my skin as the playful piccolo and strings came in with the rest of the symphony. The castanets made me picture a horse galloping and then the sudden burst into the theme with the full group was like suddenly entering a bustling ancient city. The contrastingly quieter variations that followed built up anticipation in my body, the dynamics growing louder and louder into another burst of percussion.

Then there was a dreamy string line, as though the distractions of the city life had suddenly melted away. Flowers bloomed and there was a crystalline fountain of turquoise water. This became altered and alternated with the tenser sections before until the booming theme returned. I felt the rising energy within myself as the song burst into a sandstorm, timpani thundering away while the horns created a gilded tone over the theme. Just as this built up tension was finally being released, a warm hand, Jimmy’s hand, firmly grasped the back of my neck while the other slipped beneath my shirt. His lips roughly traced over my cheek, down to my jawline, then to my neck. I had to fight back the impulse to open my eyes in shock, remembering his warning.

I was pushed to lie back, my shirt being slipped off quicker than I could process it and his touches moving so quickly that it felt like being struck by tiny pulses of lightning. His fingertips rested on both sides of my torso, his mouth alternating between feather-light kisses or pleasantly tormenting nips down my neck and to my collarbones. As the final bombastic note played out much too soon, I could feel him growing rougher at my skin and quickly bruising the spot at the base of my neck into a blossoming purple mark. I yelped softly and squirmed underneath his touch. He drew away as the drum hit its final beat, breathless as I was and with a proud grin on his face as I opened my eyes.

“Saint-Saens’ Samson and Delilah: Bacchanale.” Jimmy informed, biting back his smile and trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“You better put something else on like that one, you bastard.” I threatened, looking up at him in frustration for stopping so suddenly.

“I’ll give you a choice of pieces, each one with a different tone. You pick the right one and I continue right where I left off. Pick the wrong one…”

“I get how it works, just start already.” I huffed.

He raised his eyebrows at my unusual and obvious discontent, going back to his stack of records to show me my options. Jimmy seemed quite pleased at himself for making me react like this as he rifled through the pile. Apparently, this had not been a planned part of his little solution-for-creativity-block. I remained in my reclining position, trying to remember the names of any classical pieces he might have and what they sounded like.

“Alright, four choices. One, Smetana’s Vltava or Die Moldau. Two, Chopin’s Nocturne en mi bemole majeur. Three, Dukas’ L’apprenti sorcier. Four, Saint-Saens’ Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso.”

“I think you underestimate my knowledge of basic French on the Dukas. Between the others… I’ll pick Saint-Saens since that worked out well the last time.” I answered, propped up on my elbows and trying to hide the hopefulness in my expression.

Jimmy turned to put on the record of my choice, not telling me whether or not I had guessed correctly. My frustration was only building as he faced me again and approached me in the same slow, predatory stalk of a sleek panther. He stopped a few feet away from me just as the piece began with a fluttering, elegant violin line.

“You see, the first choice would’ve had me bring down the lovely Crowley books or maybe something of Balkan mythology. The second, you’d be left here with a nice little lullaby, or rather ‘night song’ according to translation. The third, you figured out…”

The notes of the melody shortened, making the tempo feel like it was going at an impossible speed with occasional lyrical pauses between them. Note pitches bounced up and down as the cadence came to a close, the symphony accompaniment finally coming in at a march. Jimmy took this cue to close our distance and continuing his ministrations, this time a bit more teasingly slowly. The aloof tone of the violin seemed to express his very position—his hands pinning down my own by the wrists as he created more bruises along my skin and myself completely under his power. He seemed to be following the exact tone of the melody, acting rougher or lighter in accordance to the piece.

Suddenly, the tension melted away. The melody was flowing along smoothly and Jimmy’s hands caressed the sides of my face as his lips pressed to my forehead. He would pull back, jade green eyes observing me with the purest adoration. Something about his gaze was angelic. But I knew better than to trust the façade of purity, the melody confirming my suspicion as it grew in tension and consonance. The marching theme came back in and he dove back down, this time lower. His hands played like flickering flames at my waistband as his lips grazed the skin of my chest. The playfulness in the violin encouraged him to nip lightly, leaving much smaller marks scattered across this part of my body like stars connecting to form constellations in the night sky.

A fire was starting to glow within my body and I burned with desire, no longer feeling patient enough to endure this teasing. The heat rose higher as his hands ventured just beneath the denim of my jeans, not moving any further than my hips. My mind couldn’t even focus on the music. His touch was so close to where I wanted it and yet his hands wouldn’t move. There was a dark glint in his eyes as he teasingly shifted himself lower, hovering just over my abdomen.

The violin line built up to a piercingly high note just as he finally fulfilled my wish, fingers delving into me as the note rang out and I gasped. Everything fell silent for half a second. But the song resumed and Jimmy pulled back his hand, fingertips glistening as he swiped them over his tongue. He looked at me with a hunger and leaned forward to kiss me with a ferocity, still creating a slow-moving pressure over my core with a hand over my jeans.

The piece continued, fluctuating until the ending climax and calmer final notes of the accompaniment. I could feel the pressure of his teeth against my own lips as he pressed deeper, breaking away suddenly to turn off the record player. I sat up in confusion, almost feeling dizzy after the whole affair. Jimmy hastily placed the record back into its sleeve and shut off the device, stalking his way back over to me. With a hand at the base of my neck, he pushed me back down.

“I’m nowhere near done with you, Y/N.” He warned, a glint of anticipation in his dark eyes.


	13. day tripping (john bonham x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Bonham x reader  
> slight hint towards nsfw

The last few days went by like molasses coming out of a jar, so slowly and uneventfully that it made my head ache numbly. John had been home for four days now… well, three days and four nights. The first night was exciting, both of us so glad to see one another again after such a while and being entirely inseparable. But the following few days were calmer to allow John some much needed quiet after the touring lifestyle. Both of us stayed home, mostly lying around on the couch or in bed for several hours.

“Let’s go somewhere.” I suggested, sensing a restlessness in the air as I lied lazily on the couch and John rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“Mm… what was that, love?” He asked with a yawn.

“I said we should go somewhere, maybe take a long drive. You’ve been home since the tour ended and so far it’s making you a bit restless.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“That means you have to get dressed, mister.” I chuckled, watching him sit down beside me still half-asleep.

He rubbed his forehead a bit, getting up to prepare himself a few moments later when his mind woke up and he started getting excited about the idea of a long drive out as a day trip. I was already dressed and took the chance to pack a few things for us on the road: blankets, snacks, drinks, cameras, house keys, sunglasses, etc. The sleepy drummer was livelier now as he sorted through his car keys, debating which ones to pick out for the drive.

We left the house not long after, John taking the driver’s seat with a smile growing on his face as he put the key into the ignition and revved the engine of his chosen flashy muscle car. The morning sun made the roads glow with the last night’s rain and a light breeze made the overgrown grass along the roadside sway as if it was dancing. I looked through the window out at the distant rolling hills, covered in a blanket of thick forested greenery and looking like something from a fairytale. As two hours passed by, the afternoon sun streamed its golden light through the branches of the trees fencing the road and hiding away the beautiful views of the shimmering lake beyond them.

There was nothing else in the world that could compare to the experience of the open road, especially with such jubilant company. The radio was only a quiet murmur in the background as the conversation was more interesting and the rumble of the engine roared over it. We really didn’t have a plan on where to go but watching the world go by through the windows was pleasant enough on its own.

But our legs started to get tired and the gas tank was starting to near empty, so we pulled into the nearest gas station. We also scoped out any nearby areas to just sit down on a blanket and have some lunch. A pretty field dotted with bright yellow buttercups and tiny pale wildflowers was a short walk away from the gas station, making it a perfect option for our lunch plans. John shrugged in compliance, admitting that he was just happy to be out with me.

“Whatever ya want, love. We can just leave the car right here on the side so I can keep an eye on it.”

“Alright, John Henry, just join me over there once you move the car over.” I instructed, taking everything I’d packed before and carrying it in my arms over to a nice spot in the grassy field.

It was like a scene from a movie, food-laden checkered blanket over the springy green grass with flowers and mountains in the background. I grabbed the camera, taking a few pictures of the scenery before sitting down amidst it. When John came back over after re-parking the car, I made him pose for me as he sat on the blanket with the wildflowers blooming right beside him. He seemed much livelier now than he’d been in the last few days since he got back, and I was pleased to see the change. His music was a vital part of his life, but it came with the troublesome and draining process of touring. Now at least there was a genuine smile on his face and a calm, good nature about his demeanor.

The afternoon out in the middle of who-knows-where passed by peacefully and the summer sun warmed us as it began its descent in the sky. I’d filled up the remaining roll of film in the camera with the beautiful scenery, candid John, flowers, and even birds that perched close enough to us. It was healing to feel so free for even a few hours. But as the evening fell, we went back towards the car and drove back home before all the sunlight faded.

Once we made it back home, the two of us were sleepy and absolutely content. A refreshing adjustment from the monotony of staying inside or wandering about the familiar property around the house. I was putting everything away and freshening up a few things around the rooms when John took me by the wrist to pull me aside.

“Thank you for getting’ me out of the house.” He said simply.

“Of course, you just didn’t seem yourself and I thought it might hel-“

He stopped me from finishing my sentence by closing the gap between us. John took advantage of the moment and kissed me on my open mouth. His strong arms wrapped around my low back, drawing me nearer. Just as my heart started to soar and I leaned back in pleasure, he pulled away but still kept his arms locked around my frame. There was a cheeky smile on John’s face, knowing that I wanted more than that.

“I’ve got a deal for you, Y/N.” He offered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“Oh?”

“Since you made me happy today, I’m spendin’ all of tomorrow makin’ you happy with whatever ya want. But I’ve got an idea I think you might like much better than goin’ any place…”

“And what would that be Mr. Bonham?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell ya. But here’s a hint: we won’t be leavin’ the house at all, an’ one room in particular.” He winked, pressing a deceivingly innocent kiss to the tip of my nose.


	14. a day in with jimmy (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> a little suggestive

The morning was quiet, yet my mind seemed to be numb with all the thoughts racing through it. I was terribly bored after all this time being spent indoors with the same few activities every day and yet I’d get a million fleeting thoughts as I tried occupying myself in any way possible. Jimmy was busy with his musical endeavours on his own for the majority of the first several days we were stuck at home. He was adamantly appreciative of his solitude, so I didn’t want to intrude after all the noise he’d come back from with tours, publicity events, and interviews. 

I was lounging around on the comfortable, entirely unmade bed, wrapped in a puffy blanket and lying amongst the comfy pillows. Pale sunlight peeked out slightly from the side of the tall, silvery curtains drawn apart by the elongated bay window. My eyes shifted around the various details of the room: the patterned wallpaper, moonstone-silver trinkets on the dark mahogany furniture, eccentric art pieces yet to be hung on the wall, leather-bound books oddly organized on bookshelves, smoky crystals lying on the black windowsill cushions, crimson wax candles, even Jimmy’s various scarves were lying around on the fluffy white rug before the bed. It was like being in an old estate turned museum where you were allowed to touch things, in the best possible way.

The door opened up suddenly, making me jolt up to a seated position momentarily. Jimmy came inside quietly with a toothy smile on his face and his disheveled black curls falling into his emerald eyes. He sat down near the foot of the bed, still silent besides a mumbled “good morning” but observing me for a few moments.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing, I’ve just finally crawled out of the music studio room. Are you doing alright, love?”

I gave him a reassured smile and nodded, “Did you need something?”

“No, I was going to ask if you wanted to do anything besides lie in bed all day. Invade the kitchen, lounge around in the library, walk the grounds maybe?” He proposed, reaching his hand towards mine.

A definite blessing of living with someone of such interesting taste was that you couldn’t really be bored even staying within the property boundaries. One could spend days alone sitting in the music room, God knows how many times Jimmy’s done that. The library was a whole other matter—to read each book would take at least three years. A different room was used as a storage area for various trinkets and odd things that Jimmy didn’t know what to do with but refused to rid of. There were at least six other interesting rooms, and that was just the property’s indoor features.

“Let’s go for a walk, the weather seems permitting enough for it.” I offered, getting up and taking Jimmy’s hand into both of my own, pressing it up to my chest.

He approved and wisely suggested that I change out of the nightclothes I was still wearing. Within a half-hour to make myself at least moderately presentable and drink the cup of tea he’d brought over for me while I was dressing, we left the bedroom for the gardens. The warming sunlight was veiled by a thin cloud, making for a very mild day as we walked down the paved pathway through the various colors of rosebushes, lilies, carnations, and tulips.

Further through the gardens were the lesser-common plants and useful herbs: a finnicky dragon’s blood tree, little yellow St John’s wort flowers, thyme, vibrant purple foxgloves, crimson poppies, sage, and a swaying willow. Beyond the groomed gardens, grasses grew freely all the way out to the boundaries of the surrounding forests. It was a fairly common occasion for its woodland animals to wander closely enough to see through the glass backdoor. I would sometimes even leave various things out for the animals, usually spotting a deer, rabbit, or even brown fox coming by the house out of habit.

A lake ran distantly through the land off to the one side, but a sudden rainfall prevented us from venturing out much further in avoidance of getting completely soaked. Jimmy and I ran back indoors, the crook of my arm hooked around his own as we dashed back through the grass to the nearest doorway back inside. He had a childish grin on his face, almost giggling at the surprising change in circumstances and the rush of having to run away from the downpour.

We were both breathing hard as we tried drying ourselves off, walking back to the bedroom to find some fresh clothes to change into. I slipped into a long, silky robe and finger-combed through my dampened hair. Using a match from the nightstand, I lit a few of the small candles at the bedside. My gaze snuck over to Jimmy, whose dark hair started to curl more naturally after being wetted, and I watched him slip off the slightly extravagant outfit he’d been wearing. He untied the patterned scarf around his neck and started to unbutton his frilly black blouse at a terribly slow pace for his audience.

He caught my stare amidst pulling the blouse out from under his trousers, a sly smile inching its way over his pink lips. “Enjoying ourselves?”

I played along, seating myself at the foot of the bed and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, Mr. Page. Could you give me a little lap dance?”

With a light laugh, he continued undressing until he was just in his undergarments then approached my seat with an exaggerated strut. I smiled in anticipation, watching him swivel his hips a few times right in my face and swatted my hands away when I tried grabbing at his waistband. Jimmy kept up his surprisingly bold character, wagging a finger to scold my wanton actions and trying to stifle back a laugh, then marched off into the closet with the door shut behind him.

Whilst waiting for Jimmy to finish doing whatever he was doing, my mind couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside his head. The only time I’d seen him so wildly bold was onstage in his flashy customized suits or when he was in a dramatic, pissy mood. At this point, I half-expected him to don one of the accessories he’d bought at some market while traveling and partly-dress himself up into a character. He started humming through the door, as though knowing that I was just a little desperate to see the rest of his show.

The closet door finally opened and the glamour was gone. Jimmy was re-dressed in his regular clothes and back in his quieter nature, walking up to me as though the previous few minutes were just something I’d dreamt up. I gave him a faux-glare, astonished that he had the nerve to pull such an act and be such a tease. He paid no mind to it and, instead, picked up a navy, leather-bound book with golden, elegantly scrawled letters over the cover.

“Whitman, Poe, or Wilde?” He questioned in his usual soft voice, seating himself down beside me.

I bit my lip to hold back my comments about his audacity and played along, “Sachs or Plath, I know you’ve got both in there.”

“My German’s a bit rusty.”

“That book’s got translations.” I sassed him.

With a surprised quirk of his brows, he flipped through the book on the side of the bed with one hand while drawing me down to lie on his lap with the other. I obeyed Jimmy’s directions, lightly shutting my eyes as he cleared his throat to read aloud. He brought a hand down to play with my hair while holding up the book to recite the poem he flipped to.

“’Glühende Rätsel II’-” He began hesitantly.

“Please read the translation instead of struggling through the German.”

He chuckled lightly, “’Plunge straight into the extreme / Not playing hide-and-seek with pain / I can only seek you if I take the sand in my mouth / So I can taste resurrection / For you have all abandoned my grief / And you are isolated from my love, dear ones.’”

“How beautiful, did you choose that one on purpose?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, Y/N. I’ll pick one this time.”

Jimmy’s choice was a later Wilde poem, Endymion, entirely about beautiful natural elements and full of expressive phrases that he added silly little emphases on as he read through it to me. The setting started in the illumination of golden sunlight with a joyous mood of anticipating a dear lover. As he read on, the light faded away upon the lover’s failure to arrive and everything turned eerie in distress.

“’…False moon! False moon! O waning moon! / Where is my lover gone, Where are the lips vermillion, / The shepherd’s crook, the purple shoon? / Why spread that silver pavilion, / Why wear that veil of drifting mist? / Ah, thou hast young Endymion, / Thou hast the lips that should be kissed!’”

As he read out the last line with a theatrical cheer, Jimmy leaned down hastily and pressed his lips to mine. I yelped slightly at first but tilted my neck upwards to kiss him back deeply. He put the book down and placed a hand at the back of my head with the other at my hip. I could feel him smiling against my lips, his hand drifting down to cheekily rest on my rear. Not a terrible way to spend a rainy day—reading poetry, checking over the beautiful estate gardens, seeing a show of sorts, and the occasional suggestive comment


	15. strider (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x fem!reader   
> no warnings, just fluff

He was frustrated, there was no hiding it. Through the jokes and false assurances that he was fine and shrugs of nonchalance, Robert was very obviously bothered by what had been written about the records. Who could blame him? All of that work, all of the struggles between musical technicalities or lyric choice, all of the money put into producing, all of the slight concessions to the critics’ past reviews… and nothing won them over. The crowds were growing and record sales were through the roof, but the nasty reviews were still hurtful to see.

After finishing up an interview with Jimmy in some hotel, he came back to where we were staying in the city with a frown and a much quieter demeanor than usual. There was some weariness in his eyes as he looked off into the distance, absorbed in his thought. He would only flash a half-smile when I’d call out his name and ask him something. It started lightly a month ago and started to get worse in the last few days. But I couldn’t ignore his sour mood any longer.

“Robert, love, what happened?” I finally asked as I sat down beside him.

“Nothin’, why d’you ask?”

I gave him a look, “Because it’s obviously not nothing. I know the reviews for the third album came back and they’re just as bad as the ones before. I’m not blaming you for being upset, just talk about it with me if it’s bothering you so much.”

He nodded to himself, eyes still fixed on some faraway point as he tried to change the subject: “Y’know I was told women always find out the truth.”

“Damn right, now talk to me. I’m not going to let you just go off to bed like this so you’d better just tell me why you’re being a pissant.”

His eyes met mine and he sighed, taking my hand within his own before starting: “It really shouldn’t bother me so much since they don’t seem t’know what they’re talkin’ about but it’s like nothin’ ever pleases them. Ya do one album an’ they say it sounds too much like other people’s music so they won’t even consider it your own. Ya do another album an’ they say it’s far too bombastic. Ya make the music more acoustic on the next album an’ they say it’s too different from what’s expected. It’s like when my father wouldn’t approve of me doin’ music even when the band started really takin’ off.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way and that they never seem to understand the music. But, like you said, they don’t know what they’re talking about. I mean Jimmy and Jonesy are absolutely brilliant at arranging the music then you and Bonzo are unbelievably evocative in performing which is a lot more than what most people are able to do. You’re an artist, you should have the freedom in expressing what you want rather than what they want to hear. Even if you did follow their advice, they’ll never be satisfied.”

Robert nodded, a slight bittersweet smile on his lips.

“We’ll be going back to country tomorrow anyways so you’ll be too far away to hear whatever stupid things they might have to say. We can do whatever you want to cheer you up.” I offered.

At this, the smile on his face grew and almost looked like his usual mischievous lopsided grin. I took it as a sign of success on my part. He yawned and my eyes wandered to the nearest clock, the late hour marked upon its face making me urge us to go to bed. It was a fairly long trip back home and we’d have to get up early for it. We fell asleep together quickly, arms wrapped loosely around one another as the muffled noise of the city below acted as a soft, strange lullaby that hushed us to sleep.

The early-morning calls of pigeons and crows just outside the window woke us up, the sun just barely rising up in the blue-grey sky. My eyes just barely opened as I rubbed the sleepiness from them and I looked to Robert. There was a reddish tint to his cheeks, the warmth of his body heat being insulated by the blankets despite me stealing away some of his heat. His expression was so relaxed and peaceful, the shining gold curls framing his face making him look like Sleeping Beauty. But the moment I tried to move off the bed, he awoke.

“Mm, where ya goin’?” He muttered in a sleepy, deep voice.

“Getting up because we have to go and I can’t just roll out of bed the way you do, Mr. Plant.”

He chuckled and rearranged the thick blanket over himself as I went over to the bathroom to get ready. Robert soon followed along, still sleepy as his hands lingered over my waist or hands or wrists whenever they could. As I combed through my hair, he softly pressed his lips onto my neck and wrapped an arm over the lower part of my back. I thanked him for the affections but urged him to get a move on since we really did need to leave as early as we could. Disgruntled, he slowly parted from me and followed along with my instructions.

We got into a car and took off, the long drive just beginning as the city’s quiet hum of awakening grew slightly louder with the lightening sky. A few people were already out on the streets but the traffic was far clearer than any other point of the day. Just getting out of the city still took an hour or so.

The radio created some soft commotion while we remained fairly silent, myself focused on the road so my sleepiness wouldn’t get the better of me and Robert taking a nap in the passenger’s seat already. He had the same peaceful relief over his features as he snoozed. Not wanting to disturb him, I tried to avoid any bumps and turned the radio down even quieter as the roads ran through less urbanized towns. The bustle, noise, and crowd of the city had thinned out, pretty views of nature starting to pop up more often alongside the roads.

Robert finally woke up about two hours into the drive when I stopped for some gas and water. He insisted on taking up the driver’s seat, apparently knowing a quicker way of getting home and also feeling bad that he got to sleep off his tiredness while I had to stay sharply focused at the wheel. I obliged but insisted on driving someplace by myself the minute we got home since I had a surprise for him.

“A surprise? Like what?”

“You’ll see.” I remarked, handing him a bag of candies that I got from the little food shop.

He slanted his eyes at me, not satisfied with my secrecy and asked through a mouthful of candy: “Can I ‘ave a hint?”

“Nope, that’ll give it away too easily.”

With a sigh, he shook his head and started the engine back up. We went onwards, the road now completely surrounded by beautiful forests and green fields with the occasional pass by a rural town or small city. I turned to the side unable to fall asleep as I nearly pressed my face to the window to observe everything and savored Robert’s quiet humming/mumbling along to whatever song was playing on the radio. It seems as though my methods for relaxing his troubled mind were working.

A few more hours of driving passed by, Robert and I occasionally conversing as the sleepiness wore off. We drove down the long stretch of a makeshift road to the actual driveway by the house, relieved to finally be at home after the touring and publicity rackets. The grass was always overgrown, the distant mountains creating a picturesque wall from the outside world, pretty wildflowers bloomed amidst the greenery, and the clear air was refreshing.

Robert slung an arm over my shoulders as we went inside, the house just as we left it besides the light coating of dust in some of the rooms. There was a warm sense of nostalgia just in the first moments of walking inside. Candles and a few books on the tabletops, various pieces of jewelry Robert left around as well. Blankets strewn half-elegantly over the orange-hued fabric furniture. There may have even been an emptied cup of tea with the teabag still in it on the edge of the coffee table. Home.

I brought in one of the suitcases from the trunk of the car, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and left to go get his surprise as well as dinner since there wasn’t really anything in the house. He tried to catch me by the wrist to get a hint out of me one last time but I dashed off past him and hopped into the car. With a wave, I maneuvered around the driveway and drove back down the makeshift road back down to the paved one.

This idea actually came to me a little while ago but Robert’s gloominess recently just persuaded me to go through with it. I’d heard some people talk about how comforted and cheering the subject of my idea could be when someone was stressed. Besides, his nature and the wide availability of space back home seemed very complimentary to my idea. I knew a friend of a friend who could help me and they lived nearby. Everything seemed to come together so perfectly that I took it as a good sign.

After picking up some ingredients for a quick dinner, I headed off to pick up the surprise. My directions led me to the edge of the nearest town and I parked at the curb where I was instructed to meet this friend of a friend. I went inside the little veterinary clinic, mentioning the name of the person I was supposed to meet and being instantly referred down the end of the hallway. There was an older woman crouched on the floor where a patterned pink blanket had been laid out for all the tiny little puppies squirming around over it.

“Nice to finally meet ya, Y/N. Go ahead and pick one out, they’re all in good health so go with whichever one you’ve got a good gut feelin’ about.” The woman informed me, standing up carefully and smiling brightly towards me.

I kneeled down cautiously, being bombarded softly by the attention of all the little grey and reddish puppies at my feet. Maybe it was just some childish whim in me, but I felt like I could see each one’s personality in just those few moments. One was practically crawling up into my lap, another teethed at my hand, one with a spot over its left eye yapped, the smallest curled up at my feet, two more played with each other on the blanket. My heart was yearning to just take them all home but that might’ve been too big of a surprise for an unsuspecting Robert.

Time seemed to pass by elusively as I tried to make a choice, patting each one on the head and still wishing to take them all home. The woman cleared her throat and tried helping me make a decision: “That one right there seems to have liked ya from the start, I’d go with that one.”

She pointed towards the smallest of the litter that was looking up at me with almost cartoonish puppy-dog eyes. My heart softened and I cautiously picked him up, gently holding him up to my chest in a light embrace as I made my decision on the spot. The puppy’s obvious loving and sweet nature reminded me a bit of his near-future owner. I reached into my back pocket to pay the woman with the litter and she, in turn, reached into one of the examining room’s cabinets for a whole box of starting supplies: food, a little plush bed, collar, leash. After thanking her graciously, she welcomed me back anytime but refused to take any additional payment.

I drove back home as though I had a newborn baby in the car, as slowly as I could get away with and frequently looking to the quietly sitting puppy in the passenger’s seat. It took almost twice as long to get back home but my heart was nearly beating out of my chest whenever I had to make a relatively sharp turn or come to a stop. But the little puppy just remained silent, large blue eyes gazing around the car and out the window. I parked in the driveway and grabbed the bag of groceries first, wanting to keep the element of surprise.

“Stay right here, buddy, I’ll be right back in just a minute.” I assured the puppy, who only cocked his head at me.

As I closed the car door behind me, I took a deep breath and tried to hide the grin on my face as I approached the front door. Robert opened it before I could knock, apparently waiting eagerly for my return. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, holding me by the shoulders as he gazed down at me as if trying to detect any hint of the surprise from my face. I simply handed him the groceries and told him to put them in the kitchen then meet me outside.

Robert followed along, his golden hair aloft as he sped off to finally find out what I’d been hiding from him. I ran back to the car, opening the passenger’s door carefully and holding the puppy in my hands. Just as Robert’s quick footsteps came towards the front doorway of the house, I held the little guy behind my back.

“You know how you’ve been feeling down a little lately?” I started.

He approached me with a nod, a suspicious look in his eyes.

“Well I thought about how to cheer you up and, oh- !” I began a quick spiel but was cut off as the wriggling puppy broke free of my hands and jumped to the ground.

The puppy instantly bounded over to greet Robert, nearly hopping on his stubby little legs and sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth. I looked to Robert and tried to read his face. It wasn’t too hard to figure out how he felt—the fawning of his eyes, the careful motions of his hands as he pet the puppy, the smile of pure adoration on his lips, even a slight shining glimmer of happy tears just below his eyes. He babbled to the puppy, getting down on his knees to play with him for a few moments before lifting him up.

His eyes met mine and he didn’t have to say a single word for me to understand how he felt. He pressed his lips to the top of the smiling puppy’s head, beckoning for me to follow him inside. The puppy was placed on the fluffy living room rug after the front door had been shut. I started heading for the kitchen only to be caught off-guard by Robert’s arms encircling me in a strong embrace.

“Thank you so much, love.”

“Of course, I just thought that it might cheer you up and that you could finally go on long walks around here with some company if I was busy.”

“You’re very thoughtful an’ I think I have an idea on how to return the favor.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle and pushed at Robert’s chest lightly, urging him to go watch the puppy he had yet to name. It would’ve been his job to cook but he was so goddamn awful at it that I’d rather just do it than risk burning the house down with whatever the hell he managed to do to provoke disaster. Besides, Robert was clearly enthralled by the puppy and I could hear him already trying to train him with some of the treats the woman gave me.

A half-hour passed and I called him over to dinner, the puppy in his arms as he came into the kitchen. They already looked like the best of friends, some inner dialogue or mutual understanding between them. Robert pridefully attempted to show off his way with animals, making the energetic puppy sit down momentarily for a treat. I commended him and asked him to follow the dog’s lead in sitting down, just at the table.

We sat down for dinner, eyes still focused on the curious puppy who was sniffing his surroundings and especially interested in the kitchen. There was a little gleam in his blue eyes as he shuffled around on his stubby legs, sitting down to face us with his tongue sticking out of his mouth. I was already picturing Robert ambitiously trying to train him to perform all sorts of unnecessary tricks and playing games with him outside. The thought made me smile to myself, but Robert’s quick turn of attention onto me distracted me from my rosy thoughts.

“I’ve come up with a name.” He informed me.

“Oh?”

“Strider.”

“Wonderful, let me guess – a Lord of the Rings character?”

He gasped in mock-offense, only confirming my suspicion and bent down onto the floor. Picking up the newly-named puppy, Robert started speaking to him: “Y/N’s mean, Strider, she doesn’t like your name. I’ll ‘ave you come an’ sleep next to me instead.”

I rolled my eyes, “Very funny, but I never said I didn’t like the name. Just thought it was funny.”

Robert kissed Strider’s forehead and set him down, mumbling something to him as though they were keeping a secret from me. I was just happy that his gloomy mood was gone, the stupid reviews long gone from his mind with this new source of excitement that would distract him constantly. He sat back down with me, his hand protectively over my own or occasionally leaning over to kiss my temple. My heart was filled with warmth, a pure kind of happiness and love for the various elements in my life.


	16. backstage pass (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Sure, using a phony excuse to slip backstage was a bit of a questionable thing to do but what was the worst that could happen? I’d get caught, yelled at a little, and shoved back out into the cold night air—not too bad if one of the more favorable outcomes was actually getting to meet the performers after their show ended. The plan I had was more of a daydream that I’d rehearsed endlessly in my head over the last few weeks when I first heard about the concert. Through all that practice, I’d prepared for almost any situation that could arise from my fulfilling it, each one having a relatively small risk compared to the potential reward for sneaking in. So when the security guard at the backdoor asked for my name and why I was there, I had a perfect alibi to tell him without a moment’s hesitation.

“I’m here with the press, I’ve got my ID card here if you need to see it.” I replied, reaching for a fake Rolling Stone Magazine pass I had made from inside my purse. 

It wasn’t creative but it was certainly effective of getting just to the band. The guard took a quick look at the fake card, glanced over at me to make sure I matched the photo on the card, and gave me a curt nod before stepping aside for me. I thanked him, not letting my eagerness come through in case he didn’t completely believe me as I walked further backstage. The music blared even through the concrete walls, the drum beat hammering in my chest while the guitar and vocals wailed together in perfect harmonization. I couldn’t help but smile knowing that I was so much closer to accomplishing my goal. 

Some of the other people milling about backstage pointed me in the direction of the band’s dressing rooms so I could speak to them right after the show for “my article”. I thanked them, following their directions and seating myself at an obvious place in the room to make sure it didn’t seem like I crept back here to spy on the band. Based on the songs I heard playing through the walls and my limited knowledge of the setlist, I predicted they’d be back here in about fifteen minutes. 

The loud cheers and applause signaled that the band had finished their performance for the night, meaning that I could expect them back here relatively soon. I heard the distinct dialect of one Mr. Robert Plant echoing down the hallway just outside the door, my heart racing as I saw the doorknob twist. As the door swung open, it was like I was back in my daydream. The four men filed into their room in all their glory, sweat gleaming off their bodies and smiles on their faces. Once their eyes landed on me, they paused.

I took that as my cue to get up, “Hello gentlemen, lovely show from what I could hear.”

“Thank you, love, and who might you be?” The golden-haired singer asked, pulling up his pants by the waistband.

Jimmy and Bonzo stood off to the side, cracking jokes while keeping an eye on what was going on with me. Jonesy seemed fairly uninterested as he stood off to the side, seeming like he was lost in thought. I tried to take in every detail of the room while the four of them shifted around me, preparing themselves for whatever their next destination for the night happened to be. 

“I’m Y/N, here with Rolling Stone, and just need to ask a few questions if you don’t mind.” I explained.

“No offense, but you don’t look the type.” Jonesy piped up from the sidelines.

“They wanted to give me a challenge since I’m new.” I explained, taking out a notepad and pen from my bag just to sell it even further.

“Then why didn’t you come and watch from the sidelines?” The bassist continued, a smile growing on his face to make it clear that he saw through my disguise.

“They wanted me to get an unfiltered response from you all, right after a show when energy’s still running high and without the bias of what I could’ve seen on stage. I’ve got my access card if you really want to see it.” 

At this he stopped prodding me, nodding his head in understanding with the same smile on his face. I mirrored the slight grin, glad to know I’d won his favor enough for him not to kick me out. The drummer wiped his face with a towel, sitting down at one of the couches across from me and gesturing for his bandmates to join him. Jimmy complied with a cigarette hanging from his lips, yanking Robert over by the beltloops. Once everyone was eventually seated, I bit my lip and started asking them the questions I’d mentally rehearsed.

“What inspires you more, being out in front of the crowds like that and living the stereotyped rock ’n’ roll lifestyle on the road or having time to reflect with whatever you do in between tours?” 

Robert pursed his lips in thought, Jonesy made a slight-impressed face. Jimmy took the initiative and started to answer me.

“Well it’s not a simple answer, sometimes it’s the crowds or interesting things that happens on tour but other times it’s when we go someplace to live quietly after the tours or just something that comes into mind spontaneously while recording.” He spoke softly, gesturing with his hands to accompany his eloquent words.

“Yeah, family and friends too. Practically anythin’.” Robert chimed in.

“He likes reading Tolkien, if you didn’t catch onto that with Stairway.” Jonesy teased, pointing at the blond.

“Okay…” I nodded, jotting down notes on what they said before asking a few more questions about life on the road and their musical processes.

We started to get more comfortable around one another, their famed humor and innuendos making an appearance through their responses. But that was also potentially due to the bottle of Jack Daniels being passed around. Either way, I was learning a lot about the band and getting closer to what I really intended to do if one of them would be kind enough to invite me to accompany them along to wherever they were headed for the next part of their nights. Even Jonesy seemed entertained by the game I’d set up.

“It’s been said your group has been one of the most influential in starting a culture around muses, or something that you indulge in to write. In other words, the girls that try to meet you, especially groupies, narcotics, other substances… Would you say this is a falsification or is there some truth to such a statement?” 

Robert raised a hand to his chest in faux-embarrassment, “What an accusation!”

“Damn, what kinda question’s that?” Bonzo asked, choking on a sip of the whiskey.

“Nope, not at all.” Jonesy answered, the same sly look coming across his face as I clearly tried to hint at my desired goal.

“How can you help it sometimes…” Jimmy mumbled just loud enough for me to hear with a pointed look in my direction, causing my face to flush bright red.

“You got another questi-?” Robert started to ask in attempt to steer the direction.

Their manager burst into the room at that moment, causing everyone to practically leap up onto their feet. The conversation was unexpectedly cut off and I looked up at the man with surprise, hoping he wouldn’t be too cruel towards me. After all, there was only so much a reporter could really get away with…not that I even held such a job title. The man’s voice was just under the volume of shouting and ordered the guys around, saying that the cars outside would take them to their hotel. Well, hotels since Jonesy liked to spend the night away from any potential of chaos. 

He pointed at me after addressing his charges, “You! What the hell are you even doing here?”

“I’m with Rolling Stone and I was just doing an intervi-”

“Well get out, your little interview’s over, honey.” Their manager said with a condescending sneer.

“No, she’s coming back with me so she gets her article done.” Jimmy piped up, leading me with a hand at the small of my back.

I sent the man an icy glare, a polite middle finger of an expression without eliciting as violent a response from him. He rolled his eyes and sent them all out towards the cars, not really caring who they invited along as long as they made it over to the hotels without causing too much damage. I bit back a smile as the band and I exited the dressing room, a few more entourage members joining up to ride back to the hotel with the band. 

Jonesy bid everyone a quiet goodnight, leaving alone in the smallest car. The rest of us piled into the sleek black limousine, completely crowding the bench seats so I was pulled between Robert and Jimmy’s laps. As the car set off, the entourage group was practically bursting: loud conversations, raucous laughter, glasses full of alcohol clinking together, even the occasional spontaneous singing. I felt like I was watching a movie or a fireworks show, seeing all of it happening around me but not completely involved with the action.

Time seemed to pass abstractly, the short drive seeming lively enough that it felt like it ended too quickly and yet, with the rest of the night ahead, I felt like it would probably drag on forever. We arrived at the hotel, most of the guests going along to the bar to give themselves some stimulation and energy to remain active for the following several hours of chaos. They called Jimmy over and he hesitantly refused their invitations, taking me by the hand instead. He took the key to his room, making some request I didn’t hear at the front desk, and led me up to his hotel room with an arm loosely draped over my waist.

“Do you have a lot more questions?” He asked while unlocking the door and gesturing for me to go inside.

“Uh, just a few if you wouldn’t mind. Thank you, by the way, for bringing me up here to finish the interview.” I replied, facing the guitarist as I took a few steps into the room.

I turned around to find a place to sit and my eyes widened at the sight of the room’s grandeur. It wasn’t a plain hotel room with just a bed, small kitchenette, and a television set. We only entered the living room area with elegant sofas, floral arrangements, coffee tables, and décor pieces. Not wanting to seem like I was intruding, I seated myself cross-legged on the fluffy white floor rug and took out my “interview materials”. Jimmy gave me a funny glance as he sat at the edge of the sofa, looking straight down at me and waiting for me to begin questioning.

“Can I ask you something off the record?” I started.

He gave me a short nod.

“Why’d you bring me up here? You didn’t have to, and it’s keeping you from the festivities downstairs.” 

“The festivities happen no matter where we are. You’ve got a deadline, I assume, so it’s only right that I give you what you need to write the article.”

Only now did I feel a slight pang of guilt. Before I could think about the impact of the next words that came out of my mouth, I felt the need to tell him the truth. With a deep breath, I managed to stutter out a confession.

“M-Mr. Page, I’m afraid there is no deadline.” 

“Oh, is this an optional project?”

“No.” I sighed, looking down at his shining leather shoes in fear of his reaction. “I don’t work for Rolling Stone. I’m not even a journalist, just a girl who needed a good excuse to meet the band without going through the manager. Jonesy caught onto it.” 

The room was silent as I placed my notepad on the ground. Slowly, I raised my doe-eyed gaze up to his face to gauge his response, hoping that he wouldn’t be angry with me. His mouth was curled up just the tiniest bit, his dark eyes were unreadable, and his brows were hidden under his curled black hair. I sat there, silent under Jimmy’s scrutinous gaze and awaiting a response from him. He seemed to slightly enjoy my discomfort and dread.

“I must say, you’re a very clever girl.” He said, lighting a cigarette and still not giving me a clear sense of how he felt about me lying.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Page, I understand if you want me to leav-”

“Now who said anything about leaving?” 

I was silent again, unsure of how to respond. A cocky smile was now evident on Jimmy’s face as he blew smoke out between his lips and leaned forward towards me, placing a hand on my cheek as he continued speaking to me.

“Now don’t think you’ve gotten away with anything, but I’m going to be the one asking you questions. Is your name really Y/N?”

“Yes, Mr. Page.”

He removed his hand from my cheek and reached down to take one of my hands between his.

“Okay, Y/N. What did you really want coming backstage to see us?” 

Pursing my lips, I anxiously gave him a truthful answer: “I was hoping that I’d be invited back here with someone. I’m not a groupie but I couldn’t help but take advantage of the opportunity.”

The guitarist nodded in understanding, “I see. Is that still your goal for tonight?”

I flashed him a telling look, shyly confirming my desire to spend the night with him.

“Did you have a preference for whose guest you’d be?”

Hanging my head down a little bit to cover the blush on my cheeks, I shook my head. At this, he grinned one of his signature toothy, narrow-eyed grins and tugged me up to join him on the couch. I followed his guidance and cautiously sat down at his side. Jimmy began positioning me: sitting straight forward as he sat down where I’d been, lightly pushing apart my legs in a most un-ladylike manner. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, standing up and reaching for the patterned silk scarf around his neck.

“Yes, Mr. Page.” 

“Good girl.” 

The guitarist leaned over to level himself at my face, pulling my wrists towards each other and tying them together with his scarf as he kept his eyes trained on mine. I tested out the makeshift bind, clearly feeling that there wasn’t any room for me to shift my wrists around. Jimmy smiled wider at my doe-eyed gaze, caressing my cheek with a rough hand and placing it under my chin. He tilted my head upwards, looking down at me and placing a light kiss on the tip of my nose. 

Resuming his kneeling position between my bent knees, he slowly lifted the hem of my dress up to the top of my thighs. His hands slid back up over my newly-bare skin, his cool touch raising goosebumps, and those expert fingers looping under the edges of my underwear to pull them down to my ankles. I instinctively tried closing the gapped space where Jimmy was positioned, only to have my legs pushed back apart with the surprisingly strong force of his rough hands. 

“Now is this at all close to what you wanted to achieve with your little fib tonight?” He asked, leaning in closer and looking up into my bashful eyes. “C’mon, you can at least be honest with me now.”

I nodded.

“Use your words, love.” He prodded.

“Yes, I already told you that’s why I was trying to sneak backstage.”

The cocky smile theatrically melted into a disappointed frown, “Getting impatient, are we?” 

Instead of letting me respond, a slyly-gazing Jimmy left a light, stinging hand mark on my thigh as an act of discipline. I let out a yelp in surprise and stared wide-eyed at him, my mouth agape. The little smile creeping over his pink lips lending the impression that he was enjoying this. I could barely believe that my little plan had really worked and that the evening had progressed this way.


	17. dear old friend (john paul jones x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Paul Jones x fem!reader  
> hints towards nsfw

I was out to pick up a book I’d ordered from the small corner bookstore, expecting to spend the rest of the day reading with a cup of tea by my side. The sun hid away behind the thick grey clouds and only made me want to stay holed up indoors even more. It was a quick exchange when I got inside, simply thanking the clerk and taking the book under the crook of my arm. Mindlessly, I headed back home as the cool breeze blew through my hair.

As my eyes wandered over the passersby, I couldn’t help but keep looking towards this one man standing at the end of the block. His honey-brown hair feathered out just above his shoulders and his sharp cheekbones cut through his otherwise soft facial expression. He was dressed practically, flared pants and a button-up shirt with slightly heeled boots. There was something so familiar about him that I couldn’t seem to look away, disappointed that I couldn’t put my finger on who he was.

But then, it hit me like a ton of bricks and my face flushed red in embarrassment. I approached him with a livelier bounce in my step, leaning up against the column of the nearby building as he turned his attention to me. Surely my old neighbor and childhood friend would recognize me, I hadn’t changed nearly as much as he had.

“Well, hello!” I greeted with a smile.

“Hi, did you want an autograph or something?” He asked.

I furrowed my brows, “No John, what are you talking about?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, seemingly just as confused as I’d been moments prior: “I’m sorry, how do I know you? You look familiar but I can’t place you.”

“Come back home with me, if you’re not busy, and I’ll show you.”

“Quite the offer, you seem to have alterior motives.”

“I’m perfectly harmless, John, unless you count the one time you said I couldn’t punch hard and then you had a big ugly bruise on your arm for a week.”

He shook his head with a smile, still uncertain but he seemed to trust me enough to accept the offer. We walked back to my home together as he made guesses as to who I was. I’d moved back to my parents’ house as they elected to move over to their vacation home semi-permanently so I was sure that the old residence would jog his memory a little bit. It wasn’t too far off from the shops, being only the fourth house on the left from where the business buildings ended.

We walked up the little pathway past the white picket fence, a neat grassy yard surrounding the cottage with a large oak tree on the side with the old rope swing tied up onto its strongest branch. A small garden of warm-colored flowers blossomed up to the porch. It was a stereotypical, cozy-looking old home, one that John and I used to frolic around often as kids despite our three-year difference in age. Our neighbors all had grown children but very young, if any, grandchildren so it was usually just the two of us or our school friends would come visit on occasion.

“Wait, Y/N?! You look so different, I couldn’t possibly have placed you if you didn’t walk me back over here. I remember swinging over on this tree and chasing each other on the yard and eating ice cream on the porch in the summer…” He trailed off, a fond smile on his lips.

“I can’t say I remembered you immediately either. But your hair is quite a bit longer than it was when you moved away to be closer to your session work.” I quipped, reaching a hand to fluff his hair. “Do you want to come inside for some tea?”

“Sure, but I’ll be surprised if everything inside is just the way it was all those years ago like it is out here.”

Unlocking the door, I invited him in and placed my new book up on the little entryway table. John made his way back to the kitchen as though following an instinct rather than actually remembering the layout of the house. He sat down at the dining table, a content look evident on his face as I started heating the water in the kettle.

“How did the session work turn out?” I asked.

“Well, I did a lot of arranging and playing on tracks for people you probably know. Changed my name for work. Released an album with a new band I play with and finished a small tour.”

“Wow, very successful then. What’s the band called?”

“Led Zeppelin, it was started by another session guy who usually plays gui-“

“Wait, that’s the band you joined?!” I exclaimed in surprise, then bashfully added: “I have your first record.”

“Oh, so you do want my autograph?” John teased. “What do you think about it?”

“It’s brilliant, and I’m not just saying that because you’re here. Ask any of my friends, they’ll tell you I won’t shut up about your band if given the chance. I can’t believe I actually know you.”

“Believe it, darling.” He joked, flashing me an over-dramatic smile. “You know, I can bring you around to meet the rest of the band sometime.”

I straightened up in surprise, “Really?! I’d love that!”

“Then I’ll have everyone meet in London a day or so before we start recording the next album and you can come meet them.”

I thanked him profusely, so excited that I had to fight off the impulse to hug him. The tea kettle distracted me as the water inside it was already boiling noisily and I had to turn off the stovetop. I fixed John and myself a cup of tea before returning to the table. We continued the conversation, rehashing old childhood memories and talking about what’s happened since then as we waited for the tea to cool down.

The evening sun began to set outside, streaming its golden light through the window. I barely even noticed that a few hours had already gone by so quickly. We’d caught up on the past, or at least the time between when he moved away and up until now. John was as quick-witted as ever and told me a little bit about each of his bandmates in preparation for when I’d meet them.

First, there was the guitarist he told me about earlier who was technically the leader after leaving the Yardbirds and had a mysterious, more introverted nature but a huge passion for music. Then the drummer was apparently incredible at playing with a boisterous yet soft nature. Their friendly, curly-haired singer had grown in confidence over the last few months and proved himself to be quite the flirt. Besides all of their individual natures, they were each apparently gifted performers and musicians that John had a lot of faith in.

It started to get late, the sky already dark and John sadly admitting that he had to leave. He placed his empty mug by the sink and looked fondly throughout the house one last time as he walked over towards the doorway. I thanked him for following me back here, even as he had no idea who I was at the time. John chuckled, his gaze falling to the floor for a moment and he paused thoughtfully.

“Being here just reminded me of something I wanted to do…” John trailed off.

“What’s that? Climb a tree?” I joked, remembering how he used to be afraid of doing so to not risk hurting his arms that he needed intact to continue playing his instruments.

“No, this.”

His hand reached to cradle the side of my face and he leaned in to kiss me gently. My breath was caught in my throat, my body frozen in place in utter disbelief. Sure, I always liked John and even more when I was older. He pulled away slowly, looking back in my eyes to see my reaction. My mind felt clear as though any other thoughts had departed and I was stunned by his actions. John stood back with a shying demeanor.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“No, no! You don’t have to be sorry, you just surprised me is all.” I reassured.

To prove my point further, I kissed him back with intensity. I threaded my fingers through his soft locks and pulled him closer to me. He seemed as surprised as I’d been moments before but the daze wore off quickly, his arms wrapping around my midsection to draw me right up against him and making butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach. We stood there in the doorway, bodies pressed close together and lips locked together with the softness of flower petals.

I broke the kiss, absolutely breathless but made a comment: “I’d ask if you wanted to come home with me, but you’re already here.”

John pulled me back in, laughing and smiling against my lips. It turned out that he wouldn’t be going anywhere for the night…


	18. his first time (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art school baby Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "Could you do an imagine about jimmy losing his virginity to you and he’s super nervous and is really loud in bed?"

“Y’know, the doctors said I was fine… you don’t have to watch me walk like I’m about to fall.” Jimmy assured.

“I know but you were just so weak the last time you got sick and it made me really worried so sorry if I care about your wellbeing…” I sassed, raising my hands up in surrender.

He chuckled as we walked side-by-side through the snow-dusted sidewalks after having met with some of his other friends at a pub near the art college to celebrate his birthday. It was a relief that he finally recovered after bouts of severe illness and getting slightly better over the last several months. At least now he could spend some time painting and still get a little bit of practice in for his music.

It was a pretty night: the full moon glowing overhead, millions of stars sparkling in the dark sky, jovial fellow passersby, light snowfall, bright lights of storefronts blinking in greeting, puffs of warm air coming out in clouds from our breath. I felt like we were walking through a movie scene. Several little white snowflakes landed within Jimmy’s shining black hair, which he seemed to have forgotten to cut. I secretly liked it more that way. He drew me in closer for warmth against the cold of the winter night and gave me a kiss on the cheek in exchange.

The walk back to the flat we shared was short. The modest space itself only contained the bare minimum of furniture but made up for it with a vast amount of art supplies. Jimmy was half a homebody when he finally came back — usually out, but only for work or class-related reasons rather than off to see people. He was quite shy but his talent in nearly everything spoke for him. That, and his evident charm when he spoke with people he was very interested in.

I sighed as he opened the front door, all the warmth of the flat comforting against the shiver-inducing cold outside. My tired feet led me to the small couch where I unglamorously plopped myself down, reaching for the book I left on a nearby table. Jimmy locked the door, removed the warm winter coat from his slight figure, and stood before me to gently pull the book down from under my nose.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s just that it’s my birthday so I was thinking…” Jimmy began, his pretty green eyes flickering up to meet mine nervously as I connected the dots of what he wanted.

“You’re in luck because I thought you might say something like that.” I smiled, standing up and taking him by the hand to pull him along behind me.

An expression of ease came over his previously anxious face as we stumbled through the hallway to his room. He sat down at the foot of the bed as I slipped the warm dress up over my head and placed it over the back of a chair, revealing the scant ensemble of black lace I wore below specially for the occasion. The deceptively innocent glow of his countenance faded away as he stared intently, silently beckoning me closer with the curl of his finger.

A curious Jimmy’s hands and eyes wandered over my figure, his hands finally finding a resting place at my waist as he gazed back up at me: “I have to tell you something.”

I sat down over his lap, placing my hands at the sides of his face in a caress. “What’s that, Jimmy?”

“I… I’ve never done this before.”

My brows raised in surprise, “Really? I find that a little hard to believe, you’re so charming and handsome.”

“It’s true.” He confirmed, his eyes turning down.

I turned his chin back up with my finger. “Hey, that just means I get to be your first.”

The slight smile returned to his pink lips just as I leaned in to kiss him, pushing his frame back so he laid back on the bed with me hovering over him before slipping down to position myself at his knees. His excitement was evident, from the eager look in his eyes that watched me carefully to the harder evidence just below the zipper of his loose black trousers. My hands reached for that zipper, pulling it down with the waistband of the pants so they slipped down to his ankles and I removed them carefully.

Jimmy emitted a low growl when my hands reached back up and, this time, palmed him lightly through the thin layer of clothing that separated us. A wicked smile formed over my lips at earning this visceral reaction from him, only to get a command through gritted teeth to stop teasing. The surprisingly harsh tone in his usually soft voice sent a ripple of heat straight to my core and made me reach a hand down to relieve some of my own tension before obeying his order.

I was slightly astonished at his length that sprung up to his stomach when I removed the final layer over his hips. Jimmy hummed with shut eyes once I took him into my mouth, trying not to tease him too much but still make him feel good as I bobbed my head. I could tell he was trying to hold back on making any noise, mouth agape as his head leaned back and he gasped silently. He would’ve looked angelic if it wasn’t for my actions causing his expression. My lips disconnected from him with a pop as my hands took over.

“How do you want me, Jimmy?” I asked, trying to fight off a pleased smirk at his breathlessness.

He moaned deeply in attempt to answer and his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he nearly begged me to stop for a second so he could answer: “H-However you want, Y/N. Jus-st do something, p-please.”

“Never thought I’d hear you beg for anything, but as the birthday boy your wish is my command.” I replied, getting an exasperated groan from Jimmy from the loss of contact.

He pushed himself further back onto the bed as I unbuttoned his shirt and exposed the pale skin of his chest. I trailed my lips down his chest to form an alternating trail of soft kisses and rougher nips at his skin. Before he could scold me for teasing him again, I straddled him and leaned down to place one more gentle kiss on his lips.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.

“Yes, I fucking want to do this.” He snapped, his fingers pulling at my garters to encourage me to get on with it and making me want to clench my thighs together to relieve some of the tension he caused.

“Keep your hands there so you can make me go as fast or slow as you want.” I instructed, leaning forward in preparation with an arm propping me up while the other hand reached back to stroke him a few last times.

He grasped at my hips, nails starting to dig into the skin as I teased my entrance with the tip of his cock and slowly sank down lower. I bit my lip to hold back a whine as Jimmy’s body arched, a guttural sound coming from between his pretty lips when I slipped down as far as I could and practically felt his tip prodding at my abdomen. His hands guided me to pick up the crawling pace so I obliged, arching and curling my hips around to be rewarded with a slew of loud vulgarities and wavering moans.

Jimmy’s eyes were half-lidded as he looked up at me, as though stunned by the view of me riding him and my name fell from his lips like he was repeating a despairing prayer. One of his hands remained at my hip, nails etching angry marks along my skin, while the other fell to rest at the sensitive skin between my legs. He lazily rubbed rough circles with his fingertips, simultaneously pleasuring me further and feeling himself through my abdomen. I arched at his touch and felt the growing pressure to release in my core. It was like a little flickering flame building up to a bonfire.

Sweat started to drip down my body as I tried to stave off the sensation as much as I could so Jimmy and I would finish together. The raven-haired man was on the same page, starting to roll his hips up to meet mine at the same pace as he felt himself get close. His movements grew more frantic as mine began to slow down and the hand at my hip roughly pushed me further down his length. I started to cry out, my forehead resting on his shoulder as he grunted forcefully in my ear.

“Fuck! Y/N! I’m gonna…” Jimmy’s warning was cut off by a hoarse moan.

His hips jerked up once, twice, then he held me down with one arm while the other hand’s nimble fingertips twitched over my clit. Tears streamed from my eyes at the hurried pace bringing me closer to the edge in mere seconds, my thighs trembling in their straddled position and absolutely drenched. The white-hot sensation of release finally came over me and I moaned into Jimmy’s shoulder. Spurts of liquid heat coated my inner walls, then Jimmy’s firm grip loosened from around my hips as he slowly slipped his full length out of me.

I weakly collapsed onto his frame, feeling a mixture of liquids spilling out from within me and sweat rolling down my body. We were both catching our breath as we lay there together, Jimmy’s arms loosely wrapped around my frame and his lips pressed against my forehead. His fingers traced formless shapes onto my back while I regained enough strength to turn over to lie beside him rather than on top of him.

There were tiny purple bruises down his pale skin where I’d grazed him with my teeth a little too hard and nail marks on my thighs from him. My legs felt shaky and I could feel the mess we’d made dripping down my thighs. Jimmy seemed to notice these things too, a prideful smile on his face.

“That was my favorite birthday gift, thank you.” He finally spoke, his voice back to its normal softness with a bit of a hoarse tone from how loud he’d been just before.

“It was an honor and mutually pleasant. I still don’t know if I can believe that was your first time.” I joked.

“Why not?”

“You were really good, Jimmy. And who knew what you were packing down there under all those loose, formal trousers you always wear that are way too big for your skinny legs.”

He laughed and reassured me again that he “wouldn’t break” in his gravelly voice, weakened from being so loud only moments before. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he pulled me in for one last kiss before we drifted off to sleep side-by-side, feeling a heat much warmer than any fire could provide.


	19. silk shirts (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> hint towards nsfw

Request: "Hi would like to request something. Jimmy in his silk shirts. That’s it. That’s the request."

I woke up to see an overcast grey sky outside and no birdsong to tell me what hour it was. My mind was muddled with weariness, remembering how the previous evening was entirely dedicated to driving Jimmy back home after landing in London once the band finally finished their exhausting tour. He had to wrap himself up in a coat and turn up the car heating as far as possible, the loose green silk shirt he wore in sunny California summer daytime not so suitable for the English nighttime cold. I’d tried to sleep beforehand in my flat so I could stay up the next several hours to drive him back to his home with no luck but plenty of coffee and hope.

It seemed silly for me to be driving him around when he could just have a driver take him, but apparently Jimmy had something important to discuss with me the next morning and said I could stay over at his house for the night. I collapsed on a sofa in the living room and instantly fell asleep the minute he opened the door for us. He simply dropped his luggage from the boot at the door and fell asleep on the sofa across from the one I was sleeping on. Everything else was left for the morning.

The exhausted guitarist was still fast asleep when I sat up, rubbing my eyes and stretching slightly. His pale face had a slight rosy tint on his cheeks and his black curls framed his face like a dark, shining halo. I left him alone as I stood up and decided to go looking for an old t-shirt or something of his I could change into since I’d probably sweat through the clothes from yesterday already. Besides, I didn’t think Jimmy would mind at all since he made me drive him around and then didn’t let me go back home.

I roamed down the hall, checking behind each door until I found his room and rifled through his half-empty closet. Most of the clothes were warm coats, knit sweaters, ruffled things, loud pants, or otherwise unsuitable items… not that I was being picky, I just didn’t want to take something of value to him nor something that was too warm for the forecasted sunshine.

After a bit of consideration, I slipped one of his other silky shirts off its hanger. This one was pink, also loose and button-up but he hadn’t really worn it in a while so he likely wouldn’t mind me borrowing it as much. I changed out of my clothes right there in his room, wearing the shirt like a dress and carrying my folded-up clothes from the previous day out towards the doorway so I wouldn’t forget them later.

Jimmy was still sound asleep exactly as he’d been when I returned to the living room. So I left him alone and I went off into the kitchen in hopes of finding at least some tea in there. There obviously wouldn’t really be any food in the house since the tour started months ago and no one else had been in the house. Hopefully that wasn’t the business Jimmy wanted me here for.

I filled the kettle and set in on the hot stove then went through the cupboards to find the tea itself. Luckily, there was some earl grey and a few other varieties amidst the shelf of dried herbs. The water soon came to a boil and I fixed two cups of tea, taking them both out to the living room after making Jimmy’s per his preference. I placed his on the coffee table and gently called his name until he responded with his eyes mostly shut in drowse. Besides bidding him a good morning, I warned him to be mindful of the hot tea on the table since I was going to go clean up a bit in the kitchen.

He must’ve gotten up soon after that without bothering to drink the tea because I heard his approaching footsteps only a few minutes later. Jimmy cleared his throat, about to say something, before freezing in his tracks. I turned around to face him. His hair was matted in a few spots, cheeks were still pink, lips forming a sleepy pout, green eyes still watery from waking, shirt unbuttoned, but surprise definitely evident in his countenance. He approached me slowly as I stood in place by the counter.

“What is it?” I questioned in concern, his silence entirely unreadable.

At this point, he was standing a mere few inches away from me. “Is that my shirt?”

Guilt made my heart sink in my chest. I really didn’t think he’d mind it but something in the raspy harshness of his voice did something to me, especially combined with the intense stare of his beautiful eyes. He probably meant to be intimidating, and he was, but the butterflies in my stomach erupted into flames when he spoke to me like that.

“Y-Yes. I didn’t have a change of clothes from last night since it was short notice. I’m sorry, I can take it off.” I offered, rambling the words out faster than I could really think about what I was saying.

He took notice of the rush in my words with amusement, “Do I frighten you?”

“You sounded angry and, well, you sort of always have this looming power or control over things, so I didn’t want to upset y- “

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Y/N.”

“Just a little. Sometimes.”

My answer apparently pleased him; he tilted my chin up with a finger. “No need for that, love. It suits you well and now we match.”

My racing heartbeat seemed to calm momentarily with his reassurance and even emboldened me. I told him to wait for me in the kitchen since I had an idea, rushing off before he could catch my wrist and stop me. Racing off to his room, I rummaged through the drawers for a few extra things to complete the matching look and strutted back into the kitchen. I found a moonstone pendant necklace that I roped around my neck and a set of dark sunglasses I set on the bridge of my nose. After a quick ruffle of my hair, unbuttoning down the middle of the shirt, and placing an unlit cigarette between my lips, I leaned up against the counter with an expressionless stare at Jimmy.

I tried to imitate his vocal intonation, and not burst out laughing, as I spoke: “Pleasure to meet ya, luv, I’m Jimmy Page.”

The initial smile on his face faded, “Nice try, sweetheart.”

“Ya wanna come back to my room?” I continued, flashing him a dramatic wink.

“You’ve had your fun, you can stop it now…”

I shushed him, putting a finger up to his lips with a droopy-eyed expression: “Hey, no one bosses around James Patrick Page the Sec- “

His hand latched around the pendant and demandingly pulled me closer, forcing me to stop my act by intensely connecting our lips. I was caught by surprise and merely followed his lead, I suppose I was no quietly domineering Jimmy Page after all. His hands smoothed over my back and drew me even closer so that our bodies were pressed up against one another with only the cool feeling of his silk shirts between us.

Just as my own hands started to linger over his chest, he broke the kiss by roughly pushing me away. I looked to him in breathless bewilderment and found myself suddenly aware that I wanted him to do it again, not sure whether it was a good or bad thing. Jimmy looked cocky as though knowing exactly what effect he had over me.

“Ji- Jimmy…” I protested.

“Not so smug now, are we Y/N? I’ll make you a deal though, since I’m feeling nice: if you want to continue, follow me back to my room and don’t you dare take the shirt off. If you don’t, we can pretend that never happened and I’ll just go unpack. But something tells me you’ll pick the first choice and will be taking that shirt home some point next week as a souvenir.”


	20. physical graffiti (robert plant x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Plant x reader  
> tiny bit nsfw at the end

I’m not sure exactly what I pictured when my uncle invited me to his work in the recording studio, but the prospect alone was exciting and intimidating. Part of me thought it would be very professional and quiet, just a bunch of musicians playing then discussing the technicalities of their performance. Then again, I knew it usually took several hours for recording and there’s no way people would just play straight through all that time. I wasn’t even told who was going to be there, just that I would want to be there to see it.

We arrived fairly early in the morning and opened up the biggest of the recording rooms, the artists expected to come within the hour. My uncle guided me through all of the basics again, making sure that I still remembered all the things he taught me before. As I fiddled around the piano keys on the music-playing side, someone came in. I stood up in bewilderment and was prepared to fully apologize for messing with the instrument but froze on the spot when I recognized who had come into the room.

After a few moments of silence, I finally stuttered out a “good morning” and stepped away from the piano bench. I was about to apologize but was cut off short.

“Morning. You know, you’re not half-bad if you’ve never played before.”

“Oh, thank you Mr. Jones. I’m sorry for playing around on it, I know I’m not really supposed to.”

He waved it off nonchalantly, “Don’t worry about that or formalities. The recording process takes a lot, and tension in the room only makes it worse, so we try to make it as relaxed as possible.”

I smiled just as a few of his other bandmates came into the room, taking that as my cue to exit and sit back behind the recording equipment where my uncle was. He gave me an amused look as I glared at him for not telling me who we would be in the studio with, it wasn’t a secret that I loved the band and the music. I sat down, trying to ignore what was going on across the glass wall as the band set up their own gear and avoiding looking up for the moment so I wouldn’t stare.

“Welcome into the studio, just wanted to introduce Y/N here who’ll be working with me as an experienced, but still fairly new sound engineer-producer figure.” My uncle said through the intercom, motioning to me and making me turn bright red as four pairs of eyes gazed over me.

After I gave them a quick wave, I began to look over the sound boards as if I’d forgotten to do something, not really wanting to face the scrutiny of their eyes. They all seemed kind but my heart was already fluttering in my chest and they’d only just stepped into the room.

They got started right as everything was set up, not wanting to waste a single minute. Had I not known who they were, I would’ve been absolutely blown away with their musical abilities: the heavy but intricate drumming, the lightening-speed fingering over the guitar’s fingerboard, the wide variety of instruments being used, the evocative vocal inflictions, everything. They each seemed to almost always be thinking the same things which made the composition and recording go by much faster. I couldn’t help but intently watch them at work through the glass wall.

“Hey Y/N,” My uncle began. “I’m going to have to leave, your clumsy cousin broke her leg and I have to go to the hospital. Will you be okay in here by yourself?”

“Yeah, I know how everything works. Let me know how she’s doing, I’ll come visit as soon as I can.” I assured him, taking over the controls.

Once he left, the band announced they were ready to try fully recording the song they’d worked on since entering the building. It was an old working song from the Mississippi Delta, not quite something you’d expect from a rock’n’roll band but they’d done bluesy songs before and their musical range was incredible. Since the lyrics had already been written, all they had to do was figure out their instrumentation and maybe a few improvised changes to the words.

Each of them put on a set of headphones and prepared themselves at their instruments, giving me a thumbs up to signal they were ready to start recording. I started the recording and gave them a nod. The slide guitar came in alone, playing a slinking theme that had a tempting, almost sultry sound to it. My eyes couldn’t look away from Jimmy as played the part with completely perfect drawling musicality. He let the notes fade for a moment before the heavy rhythm section came in to accompany his guitar line, like a pounding heartbeat that you could feel in your chest just listening to it. Then as it soothed back to the quieter guitar part, in came the mewling vocals.

There were a few hiccups in getting through the song, sometimes a new stylistic idea popped up and they tried it out or someone made a good mistake that was adopted in the version they wanted to make. But the song was almost hypnotic with its changes from fast to slow, emphatic vocal tones that were so minutely detailed, the meaning of the words paired with what the music was suggesting instead. It was incredible what they could do, and I was a witness to it. All I did was stare and press the buttons however they wanted things done.

Hours flew by completely unnoticed but things seemed to drag on at a final culminating argument over how the end of song should be played— the rhythm section arguing for a heavier feeling then having a sudden cutoff for the end while the singer and guitarist wanted some sort of diminutive cadence. The song was already over nine minutes long the way they were playing it. I brought it to their attention but no one seemed to care about song length, instead dragging me into the argument since I piped up.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Robert asked, turning to face me through the glass.

“Me??”

“Yeah, it’s a tie b’tween us so an outsider’s opinion’s needed.” He explained.

“Try it one way first and then the other.” I requested.

They turned back over and played the ending for me, ending with a sudden echoing cutoff after the “Oh Georgina” section, the name ringing through the spacious room. It was definitely interesting and left the listener very aware of the ending unlike a fadeout. Then they played it the other way, not entirely certain of what exactly they would do for a final cadence but improvising to a conclusive note. It still had a very cut-off feeling without sounding incomplete.

“The second way, definitely. But maybe try to add something else in there before you end because it still feels a bit incomplete the way you just played it.”

Robert and Jimmy smiled victoriously at one another before the bassist addressed me: “Then how do you think it would sound conclusive? Since you don’t like it that way.”

“Maybe have that same bombastic background theme going while the vocal part is more improvised and comes more erratically, or spontaneously so it’s not just continuing. Then maybe end it the way it started with the guitar part or quieter vocals or something.” I suggested. “Either way, it’s your song and you can choose to end it however you like.”

“That’s actually not bad.” Jimmy commented before addressing his bandmates on where to start for rehearsing that kind of ending.

The instruments took off on the repeating theme and Robert came in singing just before the ending section. For his improvisation, he continued the lyric and morphed it along gradually, almost turning into a bit of a moan before adding in a bit of extra chatter over the repeating instrumental theme. Jimmy gave the rhythm players a signal and the theme was cut off, giving him a contrasting silence to play a few waning guitar notes as the vocalist followed along with them to end the song.

“I really liked it that way, actually.” I commented through the intercom.

“Yeah so did I. Any objections?” Jimmy questioned, looking between his bandmates.

Everyone seemed happy with it that way and we began the full recording in its completed form, or at least I hoped so. We started the day thinking this song would only be about five minutes until everyone had some extra section they wanted to add in. This cut would be about eleven minutes long. They started from the top again, playing through the whole thing perfectly as discussed but the tonality was not quite on.

“Let’s take a quick break before trying that again because it was good but I think going over what you want on the feeling and intensity first is going to make you have to do less takes on the recording.”

All of them nodded, stretching out their bodies a bit as they put their equipment down and joined me in the tech room. Bonzo kept on his feet, tired of sitting down on his drum stool while the others, oppositely, sat down on the floor or extra chairs.

“So, the drum part is absolutely fantastic and has a very strong intensity. The guitar is a good mediator between regulating the fast-to-slow sections and vice versa, the bass accompanies both really well. I think there should maybe be a bigger contrast between the bigger sections and the quieter parts since it takes a lot more of that contrast for it to get picked up the same way it sounds to you as you play it. Vocals, also really good… almost suggestive and I think it might benefit from being even more so if you’re not opposed to it.”

They each nodded in turn to my notes, a lopsided smile starting to quirk over Robert’s lips with my last piece of advice.

“I have absolutely no objection to that. D’ya want me moanin’ or just different tone?” The singer asked.

I opened my mouth to answer but the guitarist beat me to it: “The former, different tone won’t make as dramatic a change.”

With that, they stood back up, the instrumentalists going back to their respective instruments and the singer taking his time to stretch back up from the floor while his bandmates exited the room. However, he wasn’t just taking his time. There was an ulterior motive.

“If ya wanted to hear me moanin’ you’d jus’ have to ask, song-related or not.” He remarked with a wink just before heading out the doorway.

My face flushed but I tried to get back to the recording gear and gave them the cue to start whenever once the smirking singer was back in position in front of the microphone with his headphones back on. This take was far better, the improvised line becoming quite a bit more tonally raunchy but I cut them off before they ended.

“What’s wrong?” The drummer questioned in confusion.

“Not a mistake or anything, you guys sound perfect. Robert, more please. Whatever you need to do to make it sound just a bit vulgar, do it so I can record it that way. It’s so close to being perfect.” I explained.

The bassist raised his brows while staring down at the floor in a silent reaction, as though surprised by my comment. Jimmy seemed slightly pleased based on the little grin on his face while Bonzo laughed heartily with the singer. They took a moment, Robert standing with his eyes closed for a moment before giving me the signal that he was ready. I hit the record button and then came Jimmy’s easing, sultry guitar introduction.

Everyone seemed on edge as they got to that one part of the song right towards the end, the majority of the song already perfectly recorded. Robert leaned up into the microphone with each vocal moan, tilting his head back with a hand adding some friction to his body just below the waistline of his jeans. Whatever he was doing worked and the improvised part came out perfect. He sang the gradually-slowing final lyric, cutting off right before the last word for a moment of silence… then Bonzo coughed. Robert grinned and concluded the line with the word “cough” rather than “babe”. They all tried to stifle their laughter, unable to just as Jimmy chimed in with a goofy little tune on his guitar.

“That has to be the one, hasn’t it?” The drummer called.

I stopped the recording there as they began to chatter amongst themselves and spoke over the intercom: “I’d save that one if you guys are fine with it ending like that. It’s a nice compromise, got a decent cadence but ends suddenly with that cough.”

They laughed but nodded good-naturedly, arguing that it could add a personal touch to the song since it felt more immersive than a regular recording without any background noise. I congratulated them upon completion, urging them to go home since it was just past nine at night. For my few suggestions I was thanked graciously and they each started to head back their separate ways. I started to turn off all the equipment and lock up all the rooms, slowly following along behind them. It was probably too late now to go visit my cousin and uncle in the hospital so I’d just have to go over in the morning.

Just as I exited the building, locking up the doors and stepping into the cool night air then swung my leather jacket over my shoulders for some warmth, an arm cloaked over my back. Startled, I turned around and gave a sigh of relief when I recognized that it was just a smiling Robert. The rest of his bandmates were already on their way home, darkness covering all the streets besides a few yellowing spots of streetlamps.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked, slowly walking along the sidewalk under his guidance.

“Wanted t’make sure ya have a safe way to get home. After all, it’s late an’ dark so maybe ya needed some place to stay tonight?” He offered.

I halted for a moment and looked back towards the singer, “You are aware that I can just hire a cab?”

“Sure, but still risky for a little thing like yourself.”

“How young do you think I am? I mean, you’re definitely older than me but not by that much.”

“You’re at least 18 to be workin’ so does it matter? Jus’ lookin’ out for ya.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Uh-huh okay… How do I know you’re not as creepy as some guy driving a cab in the middle of the night?”

“Well first, we jus’ sat through recordin’ for the last twelve hours together which’s more than a stranger can say. Second, ya don’t have to come with me if ya don’t want to. I’ll happily ride along home with ya to make sure you’re okay if that’s what you want.”

“Just giving you a hard time, I’ll come back with you to wherever you’re staying if it’s not an imposition.”

He grinned at my response, starting to lead me down the road where his hotel was. The cool air brushed over my exposed skin and I shivered right up against Robert, who still had his arm hung over my shoulders. He noticed my reaction and pulled me closer against his warm frame, looking over to me in concern while picking up his walking pace slightly. I was also informed that the hotel should be just at the end of the street so our walk in the cold would be over soon.

We entered through the double doors, earning the stares of the few staff people who were still monitoring the lobby. Maybe it was the delirium of weariness from several hours’ work and the late hour, but we burst into a fit of laughter as we walked through all the way up to his hotel room. I was leaning up against the golden-haired singer, trying to catch my breath while he unlocked the door for us. My cheeks and stomach already hurt from laughing so much, practically stumbling through the doorway when Robert let us both in.

It was a fairly plain room—perhaps the staff recognized him and didn’t want to risk having a more luxurious room destroyed. I tried stifling my laughter, leaning up against him as he shut the door behind us. Robert had an arm around my back to keep me steady, only to turn us around and pull me down onto the bed so I fell right onto his chest. Then he took the opportunity to let his arms linger lower, hands resting atop my denim-clad rear and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“This is quite a predicament.” I quipped.

“Would you rather be under me, darlin’?”

My eyes widened as I gasped and smacked his chest, “Robert!”

“Mm, nice practice but you’ll probably be louder than that.”

“Are you sure about that?” I taunted.

“Do I ‘ave to prove it?” He challenged, raising his hips up to readjust his position but also to indiscreetly give me a hint of what he had in mind.

A look of surprise came over my face for a moment, before taking the chance to beat him at his own game. I slid down gently over his hips, his blue-eyed gaze lingering over me in curiosity as I kneeled down between his knees. A pleased smile appeared over his lips when my hands reached for his ornate belt buckle. With one hand I palmed him through his jeans and used the other hand to fiddle with his zipper, earning a deep growl from the golden-haired singer.


	21. reader with cystic fibrosis headcanons (led zep) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Led Zeppelin x reader with cystic fibrosis  
> no warnings

Request: "Can I request some headcanons for how the ledzep boys would be with an s/o that has cystic fibrosis? Ah thank you so much! She/her for pronouns and for extras I do breathing treatments twice a day and take enzymes with my meals but I have a hard time remembering to take them, every 6 months I go to clinic to check lung function I’ve recently gotten to one hundred percent from the mid 70s!"

Jimmy

He panicked badly after one time when he came home after a recording session to find you having a really hard time breathing and you were all alone  
Jimmy stayed up that entire night making sure you were okay no matter how much you reassured him that the feeling had passed  
From then on, he’d always try to bring you along to the studio so he didn’t have to worry about you being in trouble alone  
Tours? You’re coming along with Jimmy or he makes sure you have a safe place to stay with people that he knows will take good care of you  
Still understands the importance of being independent and respects your wishes if his caring side starts to feel a bit stifling

Bonzo

Insists on taking you everywhere himself, especially if you have to go to the hospital/clinic because he wants to be there for you  
Brings you flowers all the time and sometimes cute little stuffed animals if you had to stay at the hospital for treatments  
You learned John was an excellent cook ever since he volunteered to take over the kitchen and always took your dietary needs into careful consideration  
If you feel even the slightest discomfort when you’re walking around, he insists on carrying you or at least halting your movement immediately so you could relax/catch your breath  
Will drop whatever he’s got going on to be with you if you’re having a bad time with your mental health on top of everything else and will do anything for you to feel better

Jonesy

When you explained your condition for the first time, he took to learning as much as he could about it and seeing if there was anything he could do to help you  
Never forgets the schedule of when you’re supposed to take your meds and will promptly remind you to take them when necessary  
Even if he’s thousands of miles away, John will 100% call to make sure you’re doing alright and that you’re remembering to take your meds  
Acts a bit like a slightly delusional but well-intentioned relative when he tells you about various practices and new potential treatments that he read about  
Actually wants to bring you along on tours so 1) you can have a little fun, 2) he can keep an eye on you, & 3) he can urge you to see other doctors with said potential treatment options

Robert

He notices whenever you feel glum and cheers you up in any way possible, recalling all sorts of things that would make you smile  
Read some books about things that can help with your specific symptoms and focused on how they mentioned that being active might improve how your lungs feel  
Now Robert always offers to take you out to play soccer/football if the weather’s clear, or at the very least go for a walk together  
He’ll go through your active breathing exercises with you, saying that they actually help him with pre-show nerves and he isn’t just babying you  
Any time he’s not on tour or away from home, he makes sure to just talk with you and be beside you as a gesture of affection but also to check in on how you feel emotionally/mentally


	22. lsd trip (mick jagger x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mick Jagger x fem!reader  
> nsfw & use of drugs

Request: "may i request a raunchy oneshot with the one and the only mick jagger..? kinda thinking an lsd-induced lovemaking session at his house in london? mid/early sixties? thanks love"

I knew that things could get a little crazy with the whole entourage at the house, especially when the guys took breaks from strictly music-making. Non-band members would sit back and watch the magic happen then sometimes participate in the fun. The rhythm section of the band, however, didn’t really bother to get involved as they preferred to sit back and watch their bandmates do silly things or just leave before anything troublesome happened. 

For today the composing-writing part was over, so Charlie had already left and Bill was on his way to the door. Keith and Anita were cozied up in the corner of the room a little ways from everyone else while Brian reached into his pocket for a cigarette. A few instruments and papers were strewn across the colorful, patterned carpet but no one seemed to pay much mind to them now that the work was over with.

Mick cloaked my shoulders with his arm, holding me close to press a kiss onto my cheek. The ends of his long, now-shoulder length, hair tickled my skin and I reached a hand up to play with it. He peered down at me with his pretty blue eyes and a pleased smile as one of his hands cupped my face in adoration. But a sudden thought popped into his head and Mick reached down into the breast pocket of his loose button-up shirt.

Inside of it was a little bag of pale-colored, translucent squares and I cocked my head to the side in confusion. The singer smiled at my apparent innocent ignorance, opening up the bag and carefully pressing one of the lavender-tinted squares onto his fingertip. I looked to the side, only to see none of our guests were paying attention to us and looked back at Mick as his gaze focused down at my lips.

“Open your mouth, Y/N.” He instructed.

I furrowed my brows but complied, simply parting my lips and waiting for whatever he was going to do.

“You’ve got to stick your tongue out, love. That is, if you want it. It’s acid.”

There was only a slight tinge of surprise in my reaction but I trusted him, and secretly wanted to try it. I slid my tongue across my lower lip and watched him gently place the little square onto the center of my tongue. He advised that I keep it under my tongue and wait for it to kick in, promising that he’d keep me safe. Excusing us out of the room, Mick bid everyone a good evening and guided me up to our bedroom before putting a clear square into his own mouth.

We sat cross-legged opposite each other over the blankets after he shut the door and chatted, both anticipating the effects of the drug to wash over us at any time. He’d already unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt and leaned over to his side, propped up by an arm. My mind felt put at ease with the privacy of the room and the laid-back tone of our conversation. Spikes of excitement pulsed in my chest every time I thought something was different about how I felt.

It seemed like about half an hour passed before I could actually notice Mick’s pupils start to dilate. As I opened my mouth to make a comment, he cut off his sentence and pulled me in for a kiss. His hands held my face so I couldn’t back away as his soft lips pressed harder against my own. I leaned in against him, my body going limp at the sensations humming through my body.

Usually I would have butterflies in my stomach and feel my heart swell in my chest, maybe pulses of heat down to my core if the mood was right. But this was much more intense: his touches were like light burns from a flickering flame, my head felt light, the blanket underneath me felt like a plush field of grass, my lips were tingling, lightening seemed to shoot up my spine, my heartbeat was all over my body, heat pooled between my legs. I could feel everything so much more than I would normally, but there was a haze of subduction keeping me calm. It was like a dream.

When Mick finally let me pull back for air, I saw his confidently smirking face through droopy eyes and felt a ripple of desire through my entire torso. One of his hands fell from my cheek to take my own and rest it over the zipper of his tight-fitting pants so I was given a taste of how he was feeling. A rush of something that I could only describe as sunlight shot up to my heart as I felt him through the layer of cloth and heard Mick’s drawling voice encouraging me to touch him. My eyes looked up at him as a languid smile stretched over my lips and my fingers played with the button at the top of his pants.

“Such a tease you are, love. Lay back for me and don’t hold anything back.” Mick directed, pressing a warm hand to my thigh while using the other to tug down my jeans by the beltloops.

I did as he asked and lied down on the sheets with my head on the pillows, but I still felt light-headed like my whole body was floating over the rippling surface. With my legs now bared to the cool air of the room, I slipped my t-shirt over my head to match. Mick looked down at me, pleased, before one of his hands reached out over the side of my face as if trying to catch something in the air hovering above me.

“You- You’ve got a few butterflies around your head.” He explained, seeing my confusion. “They weren’t there before you took your top off.”

“I wonder what’ll happen when everything comes off.” I mused.

“Let’s find out, yeah?”

A wide smirk etched itself onto his lips as his hands reached to pull off the only layer left over my hips. He seemed taken aback upon seeing all of me and sat back with an expression of absolute awe. His hands never quite touched me but glided about an inch from my skin as if he were afraid to touch me, repeating this shaky motion over the tops of my legs and over the curves of my torso.

“Mick, what’s wrong?”

“I dunno what it is but I just feel, like…” He trailed off for a second, trying to think of adequate words to string together. “Like you’re glowing like a, uh, one of those shiny colorful crystals and I can feel energy or something radiating off you. And my heartbeat is really fast. And I really gotta take these damned trousers off.”

Both of us tried to stifle our laughter at his confession and he moved to “take his damned trousers off” for a little comfort before leaning back down between my parted legs. Mick held them apart as he pressed his lips to my thigh, trailing up the skin at a snail’s pace and occasionally leaving a nipping bite along the way. I squirmed and gasped loudly when he’d bite down hard enough to leave bruises. It felt like a flame burning through my skin painfully only to vanish into the cool air a moment later.

He drew back just upon reaching the top of my thigh, tongue swiping over his lips and his hand reached down to massage at the sensitive skin between my legs. Mick chuckled snidely at my immediate blissed-out face with the perfect friction he was giving me exactly where I wanted it most. Pressure was starting to build up within my abdomen, much quicker than I’d ever felt the sensation escalate within me and I had to desperately try to stave off being whirled into the throes of ecstasy so easily.

“Love, you’re already falling apart.” He remarked with a prideful look before turning a bit caring for a moment: “D’you need a second? I could always have you returning the favor.”

My lungs were heaving with air while my heartbeat was hammering everywhere from my head to my toes to the tips of my fingers. I shut my eyes and focused on calming down my erratic senses. Mick smoothed a hand over my hair, waiting for me to return to stability. Once I caught my breath, I gave Mick and nod and sat up to switch positions with him. My hands greedily tore down the only layer of clothing he had left, receiving a playful spank in approval.

I wasted no time at all, leaning down over his hips with my nails already digging into the skin of his thighs and my tongue already taking a preliminary lick up from the base to the tip of his length. A pair of blue eyes watched me through half-shut eyelids and one of Mick’s hands came to rest on my head to direct me as he pleased. My mouth sucked along his length while he held up my hair, using it to control the pace of my head bobbing up and down as he growled out strings of dirty words between moans.

His head was thrown back against the pillows as I carefully lowered myself all the way down, feeling his tip in my throat and saliva dripping from my mouth. The dark hair that almost reached his shoulders was mussed out of place and his pink lips were parted widely, not holding back a single guttural noise from me. As I peered up at him, he seemed to have a golden glow around him and reflecting off all his bare skin similar to what he was describing about me earlier.

“Ahhh fuck, Y/N!” He hissed as I pulled my head back up and choked for air.

I brushed the back of my hand against my mouth to wipe away any saliva, sitting back with a victorious expression on my face and seeing him lying back amidst the colorful bedsheets that looked like they were rippling. Everything seemed to be lazily moving around us and the psychedelic patterns over most of the fabric only enhanced that illusion. The pulsation of the room’s “breathing” seemed to follow Mick’s breaths as he reclined back.

With a humming moan, the singer sat back up and connected our lips intensely enough that I fell back against the sheets with him on top of me. I closed my eyes and still vividly saw the bright paisley patterns swirling around my vision with a haze enveloping my senses. Mick grazed the sides of my body with his hands while teasing the wet folds of my core with just the very tip of his cock before plunging into me without warning.

My mouth dropped open against his lips as I gasped for air, unexpectedly feeling like I’d been torn apart for a moment and then being enraptured by a deep pleasure. I clutched at him in desperation: my nails digging into his back, my ankles crossed over his hips, my teeth lightly sinking into his lower lip. The whole world seemed to stop for a minute as I grew accustomed to the stretch of him being buried within me. Mick’s blissful groan resounded against my lips as my muscles eased their tension.

With how much more intense everything seemed to feel from the acid, I expected him to start at a teasing slow pace and try to make it last as long as possible. But he was no patient man and seemed consumed by his own pleasure, fucking into me relentlessly so I couldn’t catch my breath or react in any way besides arching my body up to meet his frenzied pace. His lips planted themselves along my neck and he stifled loud, panting moans with sucking dark hickies over my skin. Tears of overwhelmed senses stung my eyes and dripped down my cheeks, already riding out a climax but still being hammered at with Mick’s same frantic pace. The nerves were still sensitive and only built up in anticipation for another approaching release.

All I could hear besides the sound of skin against skin was Mick’s heavy, exerted breathing in my ear. My nails were scratching down his back as he pushed himself entirely into me and held the position for a moment before delivering another deep thrust into me. He was close and his groans were only getting louder, more frequent, and more unrestrained. His thumb swiped away the wetness from my eyes as he gazed down at me — both of us wearing matching expressions of absolute ecstasy.

He cupped my face with one hand while the other reached down to swipe over my clit with a lightning pace, making my whole body quiver and send waves of heat through my core. My thighs were shaking. My mouth was dropped open. My head leaned back in bliss. My wetness was dripping down onto him and soaking the sheets below. With one final push, Mick finally came to his release and sticky heat coated me from inside. I felt like I’d been struck by an electric shock then filled with fire. He drew back gradually, the mess of mixed liquids inside me now spurting out down to the sheets.

Mick collapsed beside me and shifted over so his head was between my thighs again. I looked at him with slight apprehension, still feeling all the stimulation pulsing through my veins and not ready to take any more of it. He noticed the sunken exhaustion on my face and merely licked a long stripe up my slit, tilting his head up to show me the glistening, sticky mixture of liquids on his tongue. My head felt clouded at such a vulgar sight and I collapsed down entirely, my body too tired to hold itself up.

With half-lidded eyes, I finally paid attention to my surroundings under the influence of the drug and saw the same rippling in the whole room. Mick shifted up to lie beside me, having swallowed what had been on his tongue, and brushed back a few strands of sweat-drenched hair from my face. There was still an iridescent glow about him as my eyes took in every detail of him. Every strand of hair that had a coppery shine to it, every little variance in the tint of his eye color, every tiny freckle on his face, even the similar pink tint on his lips and flushed cheeks.

“It lasts a while longer, love, but I think we’ll have to sleep it off unless you’re ready for round 2.”

“Sleep it is.” I decided. “We can try again tomorrow and maybe I won’t be so sleepy afterwards, build up a tolerance or whatever.”

“That’s my girl.” He praised, pressing a kiss to my forehead as the two of us drifted off, side-by-side.


	23. pangbourne (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "okay here it is love: you and jimmy are at his house is pangbourne cuddling and listening to records and teasing eachother a bit, then you guys make passionate love to each other for the first time as a couple😅 could it be detailed?💗💗 thanks xoxo"

“Jimmy, do you remember the first time we met?” I asked, thinking aloud as we lazily lied in bed together with the early morning sun rising between the tiny gap of the thick curtains.

“Yes, but you really don’t have to remind me all the time about it. Enough that I had to live through that once.”

“Why not? I think it’s hilarious that you overlooked the fact that I was holding one of the Yardbirds records that you were featured on and you acted like you were some local gondolier or something offering tours of the Thames with your shitty little dinghy boat.” I said, recounting the story anyways and giggling at the memory.

He huffed and mumbled under his breath: “I was trying to be romantic.”

“You’re a real Byronic hero, James.” I remarked between laughs.

“In my defense, it usually worked to get some lovely company to come along on a boat ride with me.”

“It worked out a lot better for you when I realized who you were, just with longer hair that still hasn’t stopped growing even longer.” I pointed out, playing with the little curling ends of it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That when someone sees the truth, things turn out better because they stick around for more than just one evening. And that you have really nice long hair.”

He chuckled, observing my fingers twirling through his dark hair. The two of us were reclined on the soft bed, cloaked in some flower-embroidered blanket to shield our skin from the cold of the room. It was peaceful to be on the outskirts of town, near the nature, and just having a slow morning. Jimmy wasn’t one for lying about when there was work to be done but he’d tired himself out the previous night with composing new songs for his newly-formed band.

After a few moments of thought, he continued our conversation: “Well, I still never got you out on that boat…”

“And you never will. I don’t trust that ancient thing that probably hasn’t been repaired since being made, nor do I trust you since you can’t swim.”

“It doesn’t need repairing, and you could dive in to save me if I fell overboard.”

“Maybe I’m the Byronic hero here then. Suave, handsome, misunderstood, irresistible, and my lover simply swoons for me.” I said in an overdramatic tone. “Perhaps I should put on a record to really set the mood.”

I got up quickly, instantly regretting leaving the warmth of the bed, and leafed through the little shelf of records in his bedroom for something suitable. The sophisticated turntable in here took a few extra steps to turn on with all its extra features but I managed to have one of Jimmy’s favorite records start to play. As I turned, I noticed a pair of jade green eyes very clearly focused on me. I assumed it was mostly from my outfit consisting of only a thin shift dress. Yet Jimmy’s gaze remained on my face as I rejoined him back under the blanket.

“What?” I questioned in confusion at his unchanged yet focused stare.

“I’m just memorizing some of your features. You have a very distinct face and I couldn’t help but watch your cute little backside when you were playing around with my turntable. And your mood-setting skills are perfect, a little too perfect if I may say so.”

A flush rose to my cheeks, “Jimmy, are you saying…?”

“Yes, but only if you want to.”

“Of course I do. I’ll be honest with you and admit that I was waiting a bit for when you’d finally ask.”

“Didn’t have to wait if you just told me, love.” He pointed out.

“True, but don’t good things come to those who wait? Or however the old saying goes…”

“You’d better keep that saying in mind because it might help you keep your patience.” He hinted, already leaning over towards me so his lips were just barely not brushing my own as he spoke.

I looked to him, waiting to see what he’d begin to do and letting Jimmy take the reins, knowing his assertive nature. He caught onto my thoughts and shifted from being at my side to straddling my hips. His hands attached themselves innocently to the sides of my face, caressing me gently as he leaned down to kiss me. A warmth flushed through my chest even though he’d probably kissed me a million times by now, the feeling still as intense as it was the first time.

The hands cradling my face trailed down to my neck and my waist as Jimmy deepened the kiss, pushing my head into the pillow. His touch was like a flame flickering dangerously along my skin and almost burning me up when he grasped me roughly. My eyes were shut, only letting me feel everything much more intensely: his hand wrapped around my throat, palming my breast through the light material of my shift, and trailing up my inner thigh.

I could feel my desperation building up inside me as my heartbeat began to race, a pulse of electricity jolting through my bloodstream. My desire only grew when I could feel his desperation with the achingly slow grind of his barely clothed hips over my own. It was a tantalizing sample of what was to come. My lungs heaved, my hips arched up for more friction against his, and a growing wetness dampened my panties. Jimmy moaned against my lips just before pulling away and shifting off of my hips.

“Spread your legs, darling, I wanna feel how wet you are.” Jimmy instructed.

A pulse of heat shot through my abdomen and I slowly followed his orders, the hem of my short shift riding up on my thighs. Jimmy pushed my legs further apart and positioned himself between them, leaning down with one hand roughly holding me in place by the inside of my thigh. Anticipation built up inside me as I looked at him desperately to continue. I knew he had a strong intention to take this as slowly as possible and I would have to be patient, but my aching body was anxious for some relief.

His free hand pushed up the shift up to my stomach then reached down to draw gentle circles over my laced panties. I was practically squirming at his touch, and neither of us was even undressed yet. It only became more intense as his hand slipped underneath to brush over my folds as though he were collecting the wetness over his calloused fingertips.

“Already so turned on for me? I’m flattered.” Jimmy taunted, pulling his hand away and licking his fingertips clean.

That sight alone sent a flame to burn through my whole torso, from my pussy up to my wildly beating heart. I wanted, no needed him to touch me again or for me to touch him, anything to heighten this buzzing feeling. Jimmy seemed to feel my desperation and fed off of it, smiling widely when my hips bucked up involuntarily.

“Aww look how badly you want me.” He crooned. “But I think I’ll make you wait a bit more…”

“No, Jimmy please- !”

“‘Please’ what?”

“Don’t make me wait.”

He placed two of his fingers over my mouth, pushing between my lips so I would suck on them as he spoke: “Fine, we’ll play a game, whoever makes a noise first loses. You do anything you can on me for five minutes, then I do the same to you. If I win, I get to tease you all day long however I want and no matter how good you feel, you don’t get to cum.”

I drew back, his fingers slipping out of my mouth, so I could make a wager of my own: “If I win, you have to tend to my every whim tomorrow since something tells me I won’t be able to walk.”

He agreed to the terms and plopped down beside me, motioning for me to start as his eyes gazed at the bedside clock. His hands were folded behind his head as he lay in a reclined position and I leaned over him. I didn’t want to rush things, knowing that slower methods could produce the same effect with less effort on my part. My lips, teeth, and tongue teased at the sensitive skin right over his waistband while my hand wandered a bit further down to press over his clothed length but not palm him quite yet.

I glanced up at Jimmy, keeping my eyes fixed on his face after seeing him fervently take his lip between his teeth to hold back a moan. His face flushed and his hands reached out to thread through my hair, encouraging me to move down where he wanted me most. Once his pale abdomen was adequately littered with little purple bruises, I submitted to his despairing wishes.

“You look so pretty all marked up and with a blush on your cheeks.” I remarked, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Jimmy looked like he was trying to hold back a biting comment, which put a prideful smirk on my face as I slipped down. My hands pulled the waistband down his legs, surprise evident in my expression when his length smacked against his stomach. Then it was his turn to smirk until my tongue traced a vein from the base to the tip of his cock and he had to suppress a groan in his throat, throwing his head back against the pillows in pleasure.

“Hmm, I’ve still got three minutes and you’re so close to losing…and I’ve barely done anything.” I pointed out.

It was fun to explore what could really make him tick, and finally touch him everywhere. My one hand dug into the skin of his thigh while the other grasped tightly at his balls and I took his length into my mouth. Jimmy’s breaths grew louder and he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood while I started to bob my head over his length, saliva dripping out of the corners of my mouth. He really began to unravel when I hummed over his length at his lack of self-control. Short little bursts of high-pitched moans or guttural grunts came from between Jimmy’s pretty pink lips and they grew louder and louder until he threw his head back in complete ecstasy, letting out deep groan with an open mouth.

I released him with a pop, “Mmm… you lose, Jimmy.”

He caught his breath and replied with his eyes shut: “No, it’s my turn. I can still win if I can get you to make a noise in less than four minutes since that’s how long it took you.”

“Fine.” I agreed nonchalantly, flipping onto my back and tossing the shift over my head so it landed somewhere on the floor.

Feeling particularly confident in himself, Jimmy merely sat up and allowed his hands to roam over my body as he started to speak about what he always thought about doing to me. The most vulgar string of words spewed from his lips, speaking in his usual soft voice as though he were just talking about music or the layout of the house. I shut my eyes lightly, letting the warm sensation of his groping hands and the dirtiness of his words only feel more intense.

His hands began at my breasts, first softly kneading them then tugging at the delicate skin harshly enough to leave faint marks. He kissed and nipped all over my chest with his hands grazing up my sides. It was gentle yet rough at the same time, switching between opposite ends of the spectrum and his sinful words only pushed me towards the edge.

“You’re so pretty, love. But I love when you wear something with these pushed up to your damn collarbones and make me want to tear it off you. Or when you lean over to do something oh-so-innocently and have no idea how badly I want to take you then and there.”

I stifled a growl from deep within my throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of victory when he hadn’t even really touched me yet. But Jimmy didn’t give up and simply moved his calloused fingers to play between my legs. First he would rub over my clit, then travel lower to feel the wetness further down, never quite stimulating one part of my body enough but working me up nonetheless. The furthest he went was almost-fingering where his fingers only pressed into me lightly without ever entering me completely.

My hips arched up to push him further, only to get roughly shoved back down onto the bed with his hands and losing all contact for a few moments as he glared at me. His intimidating glare only brought a throb to my heart and abdomen, making me want to emit a whine but I kept quiet. Jimmy slowly brought his hand back down again, his fingers only spreading apart my pussy lips and letting my own wetness drip down onto the sheets as he kept up his vulgar words.

“Look at you, making such a mess like you’ve never been touched before. Such a desperate little thing you are, Y/N, but I must admit I like seeing you squirming for me so easily. And I like how sweet you taste. I also like how you enjoy when I talk dirty to you about how dripping wet you are. Naughty girl.”

He quieted for a moment, his voice the only thing in my mind as his fingers shifted to rub up and down my slit while his palm kept a steady pressure on my clit. I was biting my cheek to keep from making noise, remembering what his prize entailed and not wanting to endure this torture all day long. My eyes opened momentarily to glance at the clock, noticing that I only had twenty more seconds until the five minutes were up. Jimmy seemed to take note as well, working at a more vigorous pace to try bringing me to the brink of release. The build-up in my core was dangerously close and I was so close to letting out a moan or a whine, but I stayed silent.

Time was soon up, so Jimmy removed his hand and grumbled in disappointment, “You win.”

“Ha-ha, I beat you at your own game.” My voice still breathy as I accepted my victory.

“So… I only do what you require of me tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but only because you’re about to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He ghosted a grasp over my throat, still straddling my body.

“You’ve got quite the dirty mouth, Y/N.”

“Simply returning the favor, and besides you seem to like it.” I countered.

Jimmy pressed a chaste kiss to my lips with his hand still on my throat, “Very true. Now, let me honor our deal and ‘fuck you until you can’t walk’ so I can see what you like then spend tomorrow pampering you.”

I leaned up to kiss him once more and smiled against his lips, noticing him slip into a more caring side through his domineering nature. Jimmy urged me to relax and to tell him anything I wanted since he wasn’t completely familiar with my preferences yet. The fire within my body was still burning strongly even despite his softer attitude since I’d been so worked up and then not ever being granted a release. His perfectly shifting behavior only fanned the flame within me.

Jimmy propped himself up over me with his forehead almost touching mine as he looked down between us. Using a guiding hand over his shaft, he trailed his tip through my folds to gather some of my wetness. There was a gentleness in his actions, making sure that I was alright when he began to ease his length inside me. My lips parted at the sensation and my hands tugged at his hair as Jimmy started a slow pulsating rhythm. As I grew more accustomed to his girth and pace, I felt that I could take on a bit more.

“P-Please go faster.” I requested breathlessly. “I’m not going to break, Jimmy.”

My desire was instantly granted as he bucked into me faster, our hips colliding with each thrust, and Jimmy pressed a hand against my abdomen to feel himself through my tummy while also adding pressure over my clit with his palm. I tilted my own body up to meet his thrusts and whined in pleasure from his tip hitting that perfect spot within me. He leaned his head down to kiss me deeply, our lips shifting from the movement below and Jimmy taking my bottom lip between his teeth.

I couldn’t help but moan with each frantic breath at Jimmy’s repeated, harsh pounding at my g-spot. My walls clenched as I approached my high, arching my hips to continue the build-up. Jimmy pressed a kiss to the crown of my head and began to slow his pace, ramming his entire length into me as he grew close to his own release. All I could hear was our skin smacking together with every snap of his hips and his loud groans right over my head.

As my climax grew, I tried to mumble out a quick warning: “Jim-my I’m really close…”

He plunged himself fully into me one last time, pressing a distracting kiss to my lips and practically vibrating his fingertips on my clit to bring me to release faster. I sharply moaned against his lips as pleasure washed over me and I felt Jimmy’s shaft throb against my entrance, hot sticky cum coating my walls from inside. His forehead pressed against mine as he let out a final moan and slowly slipped his length out of me, letting the liquid inside me drip down my core onto the already wet sheets.

Only then did I notice the dazed feeling in my veins, like lightning had struck me and now I was drained. My frame relaxed down on the bed and I closed my eyes for some rest. Sweat was rolling down my body, the scent of sex permeated the room, and I felt my high slowly wearing off. Jimmy hadn’t lied down beside me, instead surprising me with an experimental lap between my legs like he was cleaning me off. He sucked at my folds, building a new high back up off the lasting stimulation at my sensitive nerves.

I observed him with wide eyes when he pulled away, leaning back up to hover over me. Using a finger to push my lips apart, I opened my mouth for him in curiosity as to where this was going. Jimmy pursed his lips together and let a long string of thick liquid fall from his mouth to mine. The mixture of his saliva and both of our cum dripped down my tongue. He instructed me to swallow it all, sending an electric pulse back through my core. I followed his order and stuck my tongue out with an open mouth to prove it to him.

“Good girl, but don’t you go to sleep on me because we still have the rest of the day to make sure I deliver on that promise of rendering you incapable of walking tomorrow.”


	24. the sunblock one (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silver fox!Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "Can you do an imagine of older imagine where the reader and jimmy go to a private beach and jimmy is putting tanning oil on the reader and is super horny for the reader in her swimsuit and he gets a boner in his swim trunks:)"

Spending the day with my mom’s old friend wasn’t really my idea of fun compared to what other people did on a nice summer day. But I had no plans and was itching to get out of the house, so I agreed to come along. Besides, I had a good book and my phone to keep me company should things get dreadfully boring as they “walked down memory lane” together. She apparently had a pool too so I could go swimming if the heat became unbearable.

We drove up to a home that looked much more like a mansion than a normal person’s house, with miles and miles of beautiful greenery bordering it. I wondered what kind of person my mom’s friend was to live in such a lovely estate. As we parked off to the edge of the driveway, I noticed a few luxurious, sleek cars also parked in the area which only made me wonder more about who we were seeing.

At the ring of the doorbell, a smiling blonde woman opened up the intricately carved wooden doors of the entryway and warmly greeted both of us inside. She hugged my mom and introduced herself to me. Her name was Scarlet, and she was a former close friend-classmate to my mom who now worked as a photographer. The inside of her home was like a palace: ancient Greek-looking vases, massive tapestries on the walls, celestial décor, several leather-bound books lying around, and all sorts of other lavish furniture. Scarlet must’ve worked for some very wealthy clients to live in a place like this.

We started in the kitchen, having some lemonade and continuing the small talk that started in the doorway. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, distracting my mom and Scarlet’s conversation about their professional lives to lure them to head outside. My mom and Scarlet sat facing each other on a pair of lounge chairs set around the aqua blue pool, reminiscing about their times together. I placed my things on a chair further away, ignored their discussion, took off my cover-up, and went for a swim.

I floated on my back, my eyes shut peacefully as the sun gently warmed my skin. The water cooled me as the afternoon heat set in and I languidly backstroked along the length of the poolside. I even tried to remember any old tricks I knew as a kid from swimming: dolphin kicking, flipping in the water, sinking down to the bottom of the pool, handstands. It certainly let the time pass by quickly because when I finally came up to the surface to ask for a towel, I found my mom and her friend weren’t there anymore.

Instead, a man with silvery hair wearing a loose button-up shirt and jeans sat down where Scarlet had been before. All of their drinks and belongings that they’d brought out were still there so I assumed they were nearby. The man smiled upon seeing me pull myself up to the edge of the pool, confusion evident on my face. I looked around in search of a familiar face with no luck.

“Uh, hi? Where did my mom and Scarlet go?” I asked, seating myself at the edge of the pool with my legs dangling in the water.

“Oh, that was your mother? Well, they went over to some restaurant in the next town over to get some takeaway and told me that you’d be back here. They should be back in an hour, maybe longer since they said something about visiting a park they used to frequent.” He explained.

“Okay, guess I’ll just wait out here then.”

“What’s your name, love?”

“Y/N.”

“That’s lovely. I’m Jimmy, Scarlet’s father if she didn’t tell you.”

“Oh, nice to meet you. What time is it?”

“Two in the afternoon.”

“Already?!” I gasped, realizing that it’d been more than two hours since I went outside and the heat only grew more intense, starting to burn my skin a bit.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“I’m gonna get a nasty sunburn, I’ve been swimming around out here for an hour and forgot to put on any sort of sunblock.”

“Don’t worry about that. Come sit down in the shade, I think Scarlet keeps some of it in the house.” Jimmy assured me, draping a towel over my shoulders.

Taking his advice, I lied back in the cool shade and put my set of sunglasses over my eyes. My hands roamed over my body, feeling the tingling irritation of a developing burn on my shoulders. Jimmy came back a few minutes later, a bottle of sunblock in one hand and a plastic-wrapped popsicle in the other. I sat up to thank him, my brows furrowed but my smile grew.

“You’re very generous.” I chuckled, taking the popsicle from his outstretched hand and removing its plastic wrapper before popping it into my mouth.

He shrugged, “It’s nothing, and you’ve been swimming out in the hot sun all afternoon so I figured you might want something cold.”

“I’ll have to ask you to put that sunblock on me since this thing’s already starting to melt.” I pleaded, my red-stained lip jutting out in a faux-pout.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He flipped up the lid of the bottle and gestured for me to move my hair off my shoulders. I obliged, holding the wet mass of hair in one hand while carefully holding the popsicle stick in the other and licking up all its cherry-flavored juice. His hands soothingly rubbed over my arms and shoulders, then requested I lean over so he could get my back. It started innocently and maybe it was just that I wasn’t used to being touched like this, but I eased into the motions of his hands as it started to feel almost like a massage.

I kept myself distracted by sucking on the popsicle, its sweet juice dripping down my arm. Jimmy’s hands rubbed soothing circles from the top of my back and slowly made their way lower down until they were right over my hips. Before gently pushing me down to lie on my back, his hands ghosted over my ass and I felt a throb between my thighs.

Feeling emboldened, I slowly bobbed my head over just the top half of the ice pop in my hand. My eyes gazed nonchalantly at Jimmy from over the rim of my sunglasses as he applied the sunblock up my legs. He clearly caught onto my thinking and decided to play along. His hands massaged over my legs, adding pressure when he reached my thighs and finishing them off with a tight squeeze that made me clench them together in surprise.

“Are you alright, love?” He teased.

“Mhm.” I assured, licking up the quickly-melting popsicle.

But Jimmy wasn’t satisfied with taunting me once. His hands spread some sunblock over the sides of my torso and delicately over my stomach. That was only his starting point before moving up to my chest, slipping his hands underneath the top of my swimsuit and grasped at the sensitive skin. My mouth fell agape as my sunglasses dropped further down the bridge of my nose and the popsicle seemed stuck to the tip of my tongue. Jimmy smiled and sent me a quick wink then drew back to close the top of the bottle as though nothing had happened.

“Hope I did an adequate job for you, Y/N.” Jimmy remarked, seating himself carefully on the neighboring lounge chair.

I noticed his discomfort in sitting had come from the growing tent in his pants and bit back a smile. After pushing my sunglasses up onto my head and finishing up the remainder of the ice pop, I slipped off my seat. I kneeled down at the ground with one of his legs at each of my sides. My hands were placed just above his knees to keep me steady and I looked up at him doe eyed.

An exasperated groan sounded quietly from within his throat, “What are you doing down there, angel?”

I feigned innocence: “Making sure you’re alright, you looked a little distressed or pained when you sat down. Is there anything I can do to help you? Hold an icepack to the spot?”

“How kind of you, maybe try finding the sore spot first.” Jimmy suggested.

He guided my hands over to the zipper of his jeans and I began to palm his hardened length through the denim.

“Does that feel okay, Jimmy?”

“Mmm… more than okay, but I think we should take this inside the house. Somewhere a bit more private, just in case this… examination… requires a bit more feeling around.”

Jimmy took me by the hand and guided me back indoors, up the spiraling staircase to some door at the end of an elongated hallway. I didn’t even take notice of wherever this room was and what was in it, only feeling a building excitement in my body as he locked the door behind us. He sat down at the edge of the bed, his hand around my wrist still guiding me to stand before him.

I took his hint and kneeled down at his feet, speeding up the process by unzipping the jeans then pulling them down to his ankles. My hands reached up to grasp and cup his length through the only thin layer of cloth covering him. I could feel him twitching at my touch and the expression on his face was all I needed to know about how I was doing: his head tilting back, eyes half-hooded, and mouth falling agape in pleasure.

“Still doing okay, Jimmy?” I teased after hearing him gasp when I squeezed his balls.

He groaned, “Take ‘em off already, love.”

Jimmy’s hand guided mine to his waistband and had me finish undressing him, the clothes ending up as a messy pile on the floor. I pumped his length in my hand a few times before kitten-licking up to the tip and simultaneously keeping my eyes on his flushed face. His hands tangled into my hair to push my mouth down over his cock to take him down my throat. I gagged when he pushed me to take his full length down my throat, saliva dripping down my chin and my head instinctively pulling back up for air.

“Hmm, how does it feel getting sucked off by someone even younger than your own daughter?” I asked, feeling brave enough to prod him.

“How does it feel to suck off an old man?” He countered through labored breathing.

His hands smoothed over my head, tilting it back as he leaned down to press a harsh kiss to my lips and pulled away before I could even enjoy it.

“Open your mouth for me, love.” He instructed, pulling my lower lip down with a finger.

My mind felt blank, I wasn’t even thinking but simply trusted him and followed all of his directions. Jimmy was entirely in control and he knew the extent of his power over me, only needing to say the word to make me do whatever he pleased. My mouth dropped open and I watched his lips purse together, a trail of saliva falling from between them down onto my tongue.

He pushed my jaw back up to shut my mouth and traced my lips with his thumb, “Such a good girl for me. I’ll have to invite you back here when we can’t get caught by anyone and you can make as much noise as you want.”

I furrowed my brows until I heard the sound of my mom and Scarlet coming back into the house from the floor below. My heart started to pound in my chest in fear of being seen like this, but the prospect also excited me. A terrible, dirty idea popped into my head. I couldn’t help myself and went for it.

Before Jimmy could react, I took his length back down my throat with my hands holding his thighs to keep me steady as I started bobbing my head over his hips. He gasped in surprise, a growl in his throat as he glared down at my brash actions. My breath was caught in my chest as I eased more of him down my throat, my nose almost touching the bristled hair that trailed down his abdomen. His breaths grew heavier and he bucked his hips up to my mouth, desperate to reach his approaching release.

I gagged at taking him so deeply and gasped for breath while finishing him off with my hands, feeling my sticky saliva up his shaft. He had to bite his lip to keep his voice down and not let out a loud groan to keep us from getting caught. It became harder and harder for him to hold back, his hips bucking up while his hand on the back of my neck urged me to keep going at a quick pace.

“H-Holy f-FUCK.” He spat between breaths, his head thrown back and hands holding me in place for a few moments.

Spurts of hot cum filled my mouth and I slowly slipped my mouth off his length, trying carefully not to let any of it drip out. Jimmy sighed in ecstasy, looking down at me through hooded eyes and wearing a cocky smile. He seemed to enjoy the sight of my mouth so full of his cum that it almost seeped out from between my lips.

“Swallow it, darling. Then we’ll have to go downstairs and pretend I was fetching you a towel.”

I did as he told me, feeling the warm liquid as it went down my throat, then stuck my tongue out to show my clean mouth. He kissed my forehead and praised me again before reaching down to pick his clothes up from the floor. I reached down to fix my swimsuit back into place since he’d moved the top off-kilter and my chest was barely covered.

After dressing quickly, Jimmy handed me a towel from the bathroom and swatted my ass just before we left his bedroom together. No one suspected a thing when we came downstairs. My mom and Scarlet agreed that we should meet up again soon as we all ate lunch together. Jimmy whole-heartedly supported their decision, saying he enjoyed my company while they were gone and sending me a wink undetected by them.


	25. aesthete (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silver fox!Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's a painter  
> nsfw

I was glad the park was fairly vacant today, feeling a lot less inhibited from the lack of eyes to look over the canvas I was painting. My paints were laid out over my carrier bag and a jar of water was placed carefully in the grass. The preliminary sketch of the scene was drawn out quickly and I carefully brushed over the canvas, starting to outline the main forms with acrylic paint. My eyes were focused on recapturing the exact coloration first, adding shading and highlights before creating textures. 

The sun was barely shining out through the silver clouds, creating an interesting shine on the reddening tree leaves and on the calm water of the pond. It was an early autumn day, the pale sunlight streaming through tree branches. I rolled up the sleeves on my knit sweater and angled my arms around carefully to avoid splattering paint on them. My steaming coffee was set on the very edge of the easel, cooling as I became much more focused on the painting and only occasionally took a moment to bring the plastic lid up to my lips.

With a careful hand, I tried recreating the scene with only the addition of a pre-Raphaelite styled feminine figure in a white gown with a small terrier by her side on the edge of the pond. Her feet dipped into the cool water and her coiled dark tresses swayed softly from a light breeze in the air. Time seemed to pass by unnoticeably as I focused solely on painting layer after layer of thick paint to make it as realistic as possible.

“Sorry for peeking over your shoulder, but it’s really a lovely painting.” A soft voice commented from behind me, making me jolt and place a hand over my chest in surprise.

“Oh my God, you freaked me out I didn’t see you.” I said, turning around with a flushed face.

“I’m terribly sorry, love.”

A well-dressed man much older than me was smiling at me, his hands tucked behind his back. His curling silvery hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and there was a genuine brightness in his jade-green eyes. My heart seemed to skip a beat when my eyes fell upon him and saw his gaze fixed on me.

“Oh, I just wasn’t paying attention. No need to be sorry, and thanks… I’m not really finished yet.”

He took a step closer to me, observing the painting at closer proximity and pressing a hand to his lips as he took in its details.

“You have very realistic lighting and textures in here, lots of brighter lighting in certain areas and a strong emphasis on the natural elements…”

“I was trying to attempt a pre-Raphaelite style but I think I might’ve made it too dark.”

He looked to me in surprise, “That’s exactly what I was thinking, but you’ve got the more realistic shading here than some of those other painters. It’s one of my favorite art styles actually and I probably wouldn’t be able to tell that this wasn’t from the era itself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Are you an art critic?”

“No, but I went to art college before pursuing music.”

“Of course.” I mentally face-palmed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you a minute ago and now I feel kinda stupid.”

He pursed his lips slightly, “You’re alright. Sometimes nice to just be normal person, though. And I still have a big interest in art especially since I’ve had more time on my hands. I actually live at Tower House, if you know about the design of the home.”

“Really?! That’s amazing, I’ve heard so much about the architecture there and it sounds fascinating.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I could give you a private tour of the whole house. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Y/N. And would you really show me around?” I asked eagerly, in utter disbelief of my luck.

“Of course, love. It would be a shame not to share it with someone who also appreciates art so deeply. Would you be able to join me on my walk back?”

I pressed a fingertip gently over the thicker layers of paint, making sure it was dry enough to take it off the easel. Jimmy picked up the canvas and delicately held it by the edges while I folded up the easel stand into my bag along with the closed paint set. I wrapped up my paintbrushes in wet towels, meant to be cleaned once I got home, then zipped up the bag to throw over my shoulder. As I finished collecting my things, I gave Jimmy an excited look as a signal that I was ready to go.

He took my hand and led me down through the streets, guiding me back towards his famed home. His hand was warm and rough against my own, but the tiny gesture was enough to flood my body with butterflies. My heart seemed to be beating out of my chest as I tried to hide the red flush coming over my face. I stole a few glances at Jimmy as we walked side by side, his expression mysteriously unreadable but his overall demeanor seeming good-natured. It was hard to turn my thoughts and eyes away from him when I thought that at any moment, I could blink then this dream would somehow end.

We turned a corner, walking along a brick barrier with a black iron-bar gate atop it and the beautiful brick castle-like house just beyond it. Hedges and other dark greenery bordered the esteemed Tower House, giving it the look of an old prestigious estate that you’d find in the countryside or the outskirts of town. I’d barely even seen it and was already in love with how beautiful it was, it barely even crossed my mind in that moment that I was about to go inside of it.

Jimmy looked to me as we went up the entrance at the gate, flashing me a quick smile before opening it for us with one hand while the other still gently held my canvas.

“Are you ready, Y/N?”

I took a deep breath and sighed out: “Ready as I’ll ever be, although I’m not entirely sure this is all real.”

“Need me to pinch you?” He joked, opening one side of the gate and motioning for me to come up onto the brick pathway.

His comment sent a ripple of heat through my body and I shyly followed him up to the doorway once he closed the gate behind us. As the front door opened, Jimmy turned to watch my reactions as I took my first look into his home. Everything inside was absolutely extravagant, tiny details were absolutely everywhere from the floor to the ceiling. Little swirls carved into rich wood furniture and crown molding, colorful mosaic designs dotted the stone floor, medieval-looking tapestries of mythical creatures hung on the walls, even the dimly shining bronze décor was designed with utmost intricacy. My eyes were wide as I wandered silently further and further into just the first room, absolutely amazed that my eyes weren’t deceiving me.

I roamed onwards, walking as though in a daze through the hallways into various rooms with a quietly chuckling Jimmy following along behind me. Everything was fascinating, from living rooms with vaulted ceilings to grand dining halls to an expansive library to the kitchen and Jimmy offered historic background on all of it. He led me back to a green room full of blooming herbs and flowers, explaining the names of each one as well as their apparent uses. It was like an old apothecary’s garden with a stockpile of medicinal plants.

“How do you like it so far?” He asked.

“It’s astonishing, but I don’t think I could ever live in such a beautiful place because I’d be so afraid of touching anything. It’s like a museum exhibit.”

“Glad you think so, means I’ve done a decent job keeping it clean.” He laughed.

A beat passed as he turned his attention momentarily to a pot of sweet-smelling pink stargazer lilies. With a small breath of courage, I had to express just a fraction of the jumble of emotions making my stomach flip.

“I know I haven’t even seen the rest of it but thank you so much for letting me come in here, it was very generous of you.”

A slight grin hinted at his rosy lips, “I’d like to request one of your paintings in exchange. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

I was taken aback. “Are you joking?”

“Dead serious, darling.”

I couldn’t help the overwhelmed tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “Why?”

“Your painting style is just wonderful, and I’d like to have it in my home.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“But you could just buy originals.”

“Well, I’ve never met those artists, but I assure you you’re much lovelier than them and I like the idea of getting an original painting per my own request. Besides, I’d like to support a current artist since the industry is a very difficult one – that, I happen to understand.”

I pursed my lips, my gaze falling to the floor as I was almost moved to tears. With a faint smile, I tried to think of some words to string together in a logical sentence to express my massive gratitude towards him. But nothing seemed to come to mind as I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it over again because I couldn’t think of anything adequate to express my thoughts. Jimmy seemed to notice my loss for words, chuckling lightly as he angled my face back up to look at him with the tip of his finger.

“Is it a deal?” He reaffirmed gently, a compassionate expression on his face.

My eyes were glazed over and I felt a lump in my throat. I certainly had quite the stroke of luck today and Jimmy was easily one of the kindest people I’d run into despite knowing him for less than a day. Through the mix of overwhelming feelings within me, I just nodded in response and grinned widely with a bashful chuckle bursting past my lips.

“Are you alright, love?”

His hand was still gently holding my face up towards his under my chin and I wiped the tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks.

“Yeah, it’s just no one’s ever been so kind to me. There’s no reason for you to be doing this to a complete stranger.”

“Well then stay a while and we can talk if you’re uncomfortable with the ‘strangers’ bit.” He offered, the tone of his voice changing from sympathy to suggestive.

“I appreciate your offer because I’d love to stay, but I just don’t know how to thank you.”

“I’m sure you can think of something. Although you really don’t owe me anything, love.” He assured, moving his hand to my shoulder and taking me under his wing to lead me back towards the kitchen.

So there we sat in the elaborate kitchen with everything but the appliances in their original pristine condition, drinking tea from even more elaborate little tea cups. Jimmy asked me about my work, my background, my interests, and anything else to address the issue of being “strangers” under the assumption that I probably knew more about him than he did me. But he seemed perfectly open to answering my own inquiries as well. Yet the words never felt to mean only their surface-level definitions, some hint of deception or deeper intention under the simpler understanding of his carefully chosen words.

I must’ve been in some state of utter adoration and gratitude towards him, or under some sort of spell. My stomach was filled with fluttering butterflies as I seemed to cling onto every word he said, practically fawning over how eloquent and knowledgeable he was. The occasional disguised euphemisms I caught stirred my heartbeat and made my face flush even more with each one. It felt silly to be as giddy as some infatuated schoolgirl over a man I barely knew and that was so much older than me, not that I seemed to mind it at all. Maybe there was something in the tea.

He went off to bring me a book detailing the history of the Tower House by an art historian after I asked a question about the previous owners. I stood up after taking a sip of tea to follow him over to the library, standing at his side in the awe-inspiring room. But only then when I’d gotten back up on my feet and walked a bit did I remember that all I had the whole day was some coffee, plus combined with the excitement of everything that happened, it made me feel a bit woozy.

My head started to spin and my stomach felt twisted. I started to feel my sense of balance fading away, the already dim room fading entirely to black as my body fell backwards. My mind went completely blank and I had no idea how long I was out for until I regained consciousness, finding myself reclined on a chaise lounge with a relieved Jimmy looking over me.

“Are you alright, dear?” He asked, his hand on my cheek.

I blinked a few times, rubbing my head and gently sitting up despite Jimmy’s protests. “Yeah, yeah… I just forgot to eat when I was painting, happens all the time honestly, and I think all of this got me dizzy.”

“Well I’m glad I have an effect on you, but you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

A big grandfather clock against the far wall chimed seven times and my eyes lingered to the windows, realizing that I’d spent several hours here already.

“I-I should go. Thank you so much, Jimmy, but I’ve stayed here for so long and I should probably get back home.”

“Nonsense, if you’re not feeling well the Tube’s only going to make you feel worse. Besides there’s more than enough space for you to spend the night.”

My mind flooded with some guilt as I tried to make a rebuttal: “You’ve already been so kind to me and it’s really not a big deal, it happens when I paint a lot anyways. I promise I can make it back ho-“

I was cut off by a lightly chuckling Jimmy who leaned over to kiss, and effectively shush, me. He began as gently as a feather brushing over my lips and only pushed deeper, my head being pushed further into the pillow it was resting upon. His hand moved from my cheek to rest over my throat. Heat coursed through my body, pulsating with desire.

Feeling bold, I lightly bit his lower lip then tugged it with my teeth, earning a surprised look that turned harder and colder. The sternness of his gaze intimidating enough that I immediately drew back and released him, my mouth still agape with bewilderment. Jimmy seemed to have a hint of a smile at my startled reaction and added a little pressure onto my neck as he spoke.

“I knew I liked you when I first saw you, now look at where we are… you spending the night and lying down underneath me. Just tell me if this is alright and I’ll either stop or keep going.” His voice softened momentarily, “And you don’t owe me anything. I’m only asking if you want this or not.”

“Please don’t stop.” I replied breathlessly, desperation obvious in my tone.

Jimmy smirked with arrogance and complied, this time reaching a teasing hand just below the waistband of my jeans. It rested warmly over my abdomen, never quite reaching where I wanted him most and making me squirm involuntarily for any friction. But that didn’t please Jimmy. His hands now both rested heavily over my hipbones, roughly pinning them down with a slight tinge of darkness in his expression.

“Naughty girl.” He tsked and looked down at me. “Maybe I should just leave you here, squirming like a bitch in heat.”

“No, please-!”

“Shh, be good and I’ll give you exactly what you want, darling.” He crooned, a hand tracing the side of my face with deceptive gentleness.

He resumed his position, kissing me fervently and teasing a mere inch away from where I wanted him. I whined against his lips in frustration as I fought off the impulse to grind up towards his hand. My body was quivering, desperate to hurry up the process and get Jimmy to do anything except this prolonged teasing but not wanting to disobey him. His fingers massaged my sensitive skin for a few moments before disconnected himself from me in the blink of an eye.

“Can’t continue this properly down here and besides, I haven’t shown you the bedroom.” He explained, offering his hand to me.

I followed him up the swirling staircase, teeming with pent-up irritation that Jimmy was solely responsible. My faintness had worn off completely but I was in a daze where all I could think about was this frustrating man: his hands, his sophistication, his enigmatic eyes, his eloquence, his kindness, his well-groomed appearance, how he got me so easily flustered, and what awaited me if I could just follow along with his rules. The only thing that drew me out of my head momentarily was the lush beauty of the bedroom’s design.

It followed suit with the rest of the house, but there was something sultrier in its mystical style. The gemstone colors used in the other rooms were darker in here and the light was much dimmer, the setting sun peeking between the thick curtains like golden candlelight. My few moments of distraction also gave Jimmy the perfect opportunity to swoop in behind me. His arms shifted me around until my body fell back onto the cool silk sheets that felt divine against the heat of my body, my legs hanging down the edge of the bed.

“Still with me, Y/N?” He teased, noticing my awe.

I nodded, my heartbeat racing as my hands rushed to unzip and tug the jeans off my legs. Jimmy raised his brows and a smile ghosted over his lips at my very apparent eagerness. He didn’t stop me, but rather helped me slip the jeans off past my ankles. A wave of anticipation rushed through my body up to my chest as I felt the cool air and silk against my bare legs, Jimmy’s fingers rubbing circles over my core through the single layer of cotton covering the lower half of my body.

The pleasure was building even though he’d barely done anything to me, my body starting to arch up from the bed in response. I bit my lip, trying to stifle my whines as Jimmy stopped momentarily to pull the undergarment off my hips. He bent down, keeping my hips steady with his hands as he took an experimental lick at my core before lapping and sucking at the heat between my legs. I tried letting out the building sensation growing at the pit of my stomach—fisting at the sheets, threading my hands through his hair, rebelliously attempting to buck my hips up to his mouth, crying out louder and louder until I was almost at my breaking point.

Then he pulled away, a shining wetness over his chin and smiling lips. He seemed to enjoy observing my helpless, restrained reactions to his ministrations. My body faltered, collapsing down onto the silk and a frustrated, high-pitched moan hummed behind my lips. I involuntarily tilted up my hips, as though trying to hint at what I wanted from him and his hands weren’t pinning me down. Jimmy only chuckled darkly.

“You know, I’ve got an idea for what I want in my commissioned painting.” He remarked nonchalantly.

I propped myself up on my elbows, gritting my teeth as I replied: “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t realize I was good enough to cause amnesia.” He quipped. “The painting I asked you to do for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “I know that. I meant: Why. Did. You. Stop?”

“Aww, poor dear. It’ll only make it better later when I let you succumb to your own pleasure… which is what I’m talking about. You look so lovely like that: on the edge, falling apart in the silk, uninhibited, making those pretty sounds for me. I’ll have to take a reference picture for you next time.”

“Next time?”

“Within the next hour, if you want details. Now where are your paintbrushes? I’ll buy you some new replacements, but I’ve got an idea on pleasuring you in a way I doubt anyone else has…”


	26. thigh riding (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> nsfw

Request: "hi,, can i request a jimmy x fem reader thigh riding imagine? can be as long as you want x"

“Jimmmmmyyyy…” I groaned.

He’d been working at his compositions for the whole day, fiddling around on his guitars and writing notes on papers to keep track of what he’d come up with. I brought him some food and water throughout the day between my own errands but by now he really needed to take a rest. He started his work in the morning and kept writing in a daze until after the autumn sun had set.

An hour passed since I first came into the music room and sat down on the elegant rug beside the foot of his chair. He assured me it would be “just a second” before he’d be done… uttering these same words at least six times by now. Earlier his hand was writing feverishly to note down everything in his head. But at this point, his pace had slowed to a complete stop and he was stuck.

“Jim, you’ve been at it all day.” I reminded him, getting no reaction out of him.

I groaned in annoyance and tried to get his attention some other way since my talking wasn’t having an effect. His hand propped up his head as he gazed down wearily at the sheet of paper on the side table, in a perfect state of distraction. So distracted that he didn’t even take note of me as I climbed up onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his shoulders until I leaned down to kiss his neck.

“Hmm? Wh- How’d you get up here?” He asked, voice even softer than usual from feeling drained.

“Jimmy, you need to take a break. You haven’t written anything down in the last twenty minutes.”

“Fine, give me a little while longer while I finish up.”

“Jimmmmyyyy…” I protested.

His hand rested just over my rear, “I’ve got an idea since you seem to be a bit restless.”

“Oh?” I asked, looking up at him curiously.

“Come sit up here, darling.” He directed and motioned towards his thigh. 

My brows raised in surprise but I followed along cautiously, keeping my arms around him to keep me steady. His arm was still roped around my backside as a guide that pulled my hips higher up his leg and I started to feel a twinge in my core. The guitarist’s hands roamed below my waist languidly, as if trying to coax my hips back down his thigh.

“Jimmy, what are you doing?”

“Letting you have some fun while I finish. I want you to get off on my thigh, love.”

The casual tone in his suggestive words sent a wave of heat down through my abdomen and I couldn’t help but follow his orders. I tilted my hips back and forth at a slow pace, Jimmy’s arm guiding me. He went back to his writing and added a few final notes while a buzzing pleasure grew from between my legs. After finishing up, he turned his attention to my blissed-out face with a cocky, assured expression.

Jimmy’s other hand flipped up the hem of my skirt to smooth over my barely clothed ass. The friction against his pants was perfectly rough as I chased my high, not caring at all about the growing wetness seeping through my panties. I shut my eyes lightly to revel in the sensation of building pleasure only to be directed to keep my eyes fixed on Jimmy.

“There we go, Y/N, look how pretty you are… and I haven’t even started with you.”

“Mm, Jimmy… I’m getting close.” I muttered, starting to slow slightly to draw out the feeling as much as I could.

“Go ahead, love, make a mess all over my pants.” He directed, pulling my hips along faster to bring me to my climax faster.

My breaths grew heavier in my chest and my heart was beating in my throat. I clutched myself closer to his chest, my own frame feeling limp from ecstasy and letting Jimmy take over my movements. His hands clutched and groped my ass from underneath my panties. My head leaned into his shoulder as my hips kept chasing after my approaching high, breathy moans coming from my parted lips. Jimmy continued to encourage me with his dirty words and guiding hands.

I felt myself letting go, my teeth nipping into his collarbone with the ecstasy flooding through my whole body and I tried to hold back a loud moan. He growled disdainfully as I bit down harder in the white-hot sensation of release coming over me. As I slowly rode out the high, I saw that my little bites left marks over the pale skin of his shoulder and neck, a beautifully menacing green-eyed stare directed at me.

“I never tire of seeing you fall apart like that because of me, only now I have to make sure you’re marked up like this too — bruises where you can’t really hide them, so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.” He warned with a mocking smile.


	27. taste of his own medicine (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silver fox!Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> no warnings

There had never been a more vexing and irresistible person in his life. No one who could perplex him into frustration as easily. No one who could be so terribly intriguing and give him such a nasty migraine. She answered almost all his questions, but he truly didn’t know a thing about her. If there was ever a question she wanted to dodge, all she would do was reaffirm that their meetings were entirely occasional, casual, and temporary so there was no need for such formalities to bring emotions into the mix. He didn’t even know her name.

She must’ve seen him writing things down in this notebook on his hotel suite desk, because now there were nine solid pages filled with the answer to a question he’d posed to her days ago. He distinctly remembered taking her out to some smoky, hidden away café four blocks down the other afternoon and having to build up the courage to confront her about the “other people” she would mention sometimes. At the time, the girl only brought up two points: one, that he had been far more promiscuous at her age than she was so it was unfair to ask, then two, that she was caught off-guard and was unable to give him an exact figure.

So there he sat, still at the desk with the notebook flipped wide open after finally coming back from an exhausting interview hours ago. A few bottles from the suite’s mini bar were stacked up on the side of the desk and he’d begun to empty them as his eyes scanned over the pages numerous times. He couldn’t even hear the lively music and conversations from the city outside, his mind so focused on this note she left him.

At first, he laughed after reading through them. Surely this wisp of a girl couldn’t possibly have had so many notable accounts with so many people from so many places. Unless her work took her all over the world like his own did, there was no chance. She looked so innocent and spoke so honestly that he didn’t want to doubt her. But all these stories bothered him—not as judgement for how many people there were, rather that he wanted her attachment. He didn’t want to think they could be true, so he kept convincing himself that they were just funny little stories she made up. And yet they were too detailed to all be untrue. The words began to swirl in his vision as he flipped through the pages of her handwriting for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“No. 1: A popular and utterly foolish boy named Tristan from my high school whose only passion was cheap vodka and being a mediocre football player.  
No. 2: A green-haired classmate named Angela in my introductory statistics class who sadly had to move to another country. She was very kind and her calico cat enjoyed nuzzling its head on my leg.  
No. 3: Some person I met at a Halloween party very briefly, didn’t really see what they looked like from the lack of light.  
No. 4: My previous law professor, only nine years my elder and the class was over so it was technically alright. Originally from Southern Chile but moved to Pensacola, Florida briefly and then began uni somewhere in French Canada.  
No. 5 & 6: A very wealthy couple in the Virgin Islands that invited me home with them when I was on spring break in the Caribbean.  
No. 7: A handsome Romanian man by the name of Alex I met whilst on a trip of Eastern Europe who knew all the tourist lore of Transylvania and spent his workdays as a travel agent.  
No. 8: A stunning Ukrainian girl called Zina I met on the same trip with the longest braids I’d ever seen and always had odd-numbered bouquets of yellow flowers in her flat. She worked as an accountant.  
No. 9: A transfer student from Seoul who had everyone call them Sky and was my partner for about two weeks during the beginning of my second year at uni.  
No. 10: A passionate artist in Morocco who would only refer to me as ‘my muse’ but I had to leave to go back home and continue my studies.”

And the list continued with more names, occupations, places, and random details until the number reached thirty-six with him as the final person in the list. It was like getting a taste of his own medicine but more directly and Robert couldn’t tell if this was better or worse. Either way, he didn’t like it. A feeling of remorse washed over him knowing that he likely left this same anguish in quite a few people. It used to be fun to be so unattached and free in love, but that was a different time. Or perhaps it was still fun and the times hadn’t really changed, but instead he was older and didn’t like feeling as emotionally-flighty as a schoolboy.

He lied down in bed, trying to clear his head to at least get some peace in sleep. All he could see in his mind were her shining eyes, her cute nose, her youthful smile, her tendency to glance away when he threw a euphemism into the conversation. She must’ve been kidding about at least some of these stories, they sounded comical enough for a work of fiction. Her demureness towards his dirty jokes and the way she’d turn away from his lips sometimes to have him kiss her cheek instead of her lips both seemed to point towards that conclusion. Or maybe she was just very, very good at teasing people and bringing them to such a point of misery.

Robert’s worried mind never eased but only started to ache dully. The light scent of that perfume she’d wear occasionally was still in the air and started to drive him mad with uncertainty, a constant reminder in the very air that he had to inhale. She had been here that afternoon as per their regular arrangements and left the suite a little while after him, having given him a kiss on the cheek for luck at his interview. That’s when she must’ve written this little account for him—between when he’d left and when she had to leave for her evening plans.

Despite his own frustration, there was something soothing about her overall nature with her clever words spoken softly as though carefully thought-out and always delivered with a genuine expressiveness. He even liked the chase of getting close to finally cracking her only to have her gain the upper hand with one simple gesture. It was torturously slow—their first accidental meeting occurred a year or so ago when she ran into him in this same city before he had a concert and the interaction was so intriguing that he invited her to watch the show. He invited her for dinner that night, she refused and said her evenings were taken… potentially by person number thirty-five on her list. They settled for the next afternoon, only after much pleading on Robert’s part since he’d be leaving the next night anyways.

For a full year they hadn’t seen each other, and they incidentally met again just outside a park. She was taking a walk alone. Robert was waiting on an acquaintance but noticed something familiar about her, taking a moment to place this unique girl who he never learned the name of. She kept her distance again for the first week of his stay even as he invited her to his suite every afternoon and tried to impress her with thoughtful gestures.

It was now the eighteenth consecutive day that he’d seen her, making it twenty days in total. She hadn’t refused his afternoon plans yet and only asked if his work wasn’t being ignored. He reassured her that it was coming along faster than at any other point, not confessing that the mystery of her true nature was inspiring a few good lyrics and melodic tunes for him. This afternoon, Robert decided, he’d have to come completely clean about how he’d felt about her and beg with whatever it took for her to return his honesty.

His cherished, ever-anonymous guest arrived right on time for a lunch date in his suite. She was dressed stylishly, as usual, keeping up the warm and friendly yet distant persona. They sat together at the table on the balcony with the noise of the city as ambience to make up for their lack of conversation. Robert remembered badgering her about some of the stories she’d tell face-to-face about a past lover giving her a pretty necklace or taking her on a trip to wherever. He would’ve continued his badgering about her very interesting list, but he had to stay reserved and calm.

“I saw the notes ya left me.” He finally confessed, cutting the tension in the air like a knife through cold butter.

“Oh?” She asked, not looking up from her fork.

“They were intriguing… mind you, I’m not disapprovin’ or judgin’ you in any way.”

“It’s only fair that you aren’t judging me. After all, you’re no saint either.”

“Well, that’s the thing…” He trailed off.

“What?” Her eyes finally glanced up as she put down her cutlery. “You’re not really in any position to deny that.”

“No, that’s exactly true an’ I meant it the other way around—somethin’ in my mind makes me not want to believe you an’ it’s bothering me. I don’t care if it is true, but if it is, you’re very unattached from everyone ya mentioned an’ that’s the thing that’s been on my mind. I don’t know your name ‘r where exactly you come from ‘r really anything about you besides some of your tastes, which doesn’t matter because what I really want to know whether or not you… well, if you actually care about…”

“You?” She finished his sentence for him.

“Well, yeah.” He admitted bashfully.

A small smile slowly grew across her lips, “You silly old man… of course I do.”

“Do you mean that in the sense of all those other people on the list or genuinely?”

“I like you a whole lot more than the people I mostly made-up to put myself on-par with you.”

His eyes widened in realization of her confession, the cloudy headache finally clear from his mind when he learned the truth… and a lot faster than he anticipated. He wondered why she had done such a thing, likely knowing that it would make him so frustrated. Now he just wanted to hold her in his arms and laugh at their folly, or maybe teach her a lesson for troubling him so much.

“Why you little minx…” He began.

“No need for name-calling, Mr. Plant. Especially after I’ve confessed my affections for you as being more than a fun fling and told you the truth.”

“Come here, my clever girl.” He chuckled.

She stood up from her seat to follow his request, standing before him, only to have his strong arms rope around her waist and bring her down onto his lap. His hands held her in a tight embrace and ran soothingly over her back. There was a sense of harmony and understanding between them now that the confusion had been cleared away. The girl smiled wider, giving him a kiss on the cheek as his hands came to rest over her rear.

“Well, can I know your name now?”

“First, I’ll tell you that the only true name on my list was yours. The rest were either entirely made up or I had a crush on them, but nothing came of it. Secondly, my name’s Y/N.”

“Absolutely perfect.” He praised, playing with a few strands of her loose hair.

This terribly imaginative girl, his Y/N, had driven him absolutely mad in such a short span of time and so effortlessly. Robert thought knowing the whole truth about her would soothe the feeling, but he only felt it more so now. He wanted to take her straight back inside to extend their rendezvous into the night if she’d let him, so he could chant out her name like a prayer to make up for all the times he didn’t know it.


	28. goodbye kisses (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> no warnings, just angst and fluff

Request: "Hi! I would like to request a soft and sweet Jimmy imagine. I don’t care what it’s about, I just want my heart to melt😊🥰 Thank you!"

I woke up slowly, the sunlight glowing through the thin sheers over the windows and into my shut eyelids. My hand reached up to rub the sleepiness from my eyes but a hand reached to grab my wrist and I felt a pair of soft lips on my own. A warm bliss flooded through my body as I lied in bed, only feeling a sensation of a soft kiss on my lips and I couldn’t fight back a languid smile. I slowly blinked open my eyes, seeing a smiling Jimmy sitting on the bed and leaning over me. 

“Good morning.” He greeted.

“It is now.” I chuckled, my voice still clouded in sleepiness. “It’s our last day together, what do you want to do?”

“Right now, I just want to hold you.”

His arms cradled me gently, my head leaning up against his chest as he pressed another kiss to the crown of my head. A hand rested around my frame while the other held my own hand. I was completely engulfed by Jimmy, a peaceful quiet surrounding us as there were no words needed or existing to express what we were thinking. It felt safe, familiar, comforting… like finally coming home after an exhausting time away and needing nothing but to soak in the feeling.

We sat together like that for a while, hearing the city outside waking up and seeing the sunlight burn brighter through the curtains as the sun rose. My heart was soaring in my chest with no sensations besides a soft blossoming love burning through me. I could hear Jimmy’s steady heartbeat through his chest and relaxed against him. Only when my stomach growled quietly did we move out of bed, Jimmy keeping my hand within his as we walked down to the kitchen and he brought my knuckles up to his lips.

It was a bittersweet la vie en rose, everything glowing in the golden light of the sun and a pure adoration shining in our eyes but with the lingering sadness of Jimmy’s approaching departure in the back of our minds. The day seemed to pass by at the speed of honey dripping out of a bottle, or like a flashback to a fond memory in a movie. We drank tea in the kitchen, wandered through the fenced garden in the back, lounged together in bed again, a thousand innocent kisses exchanged through the past four hours and never-fading smiles on our faces.

I was sitting up on his lap facing him, my arms over his shoulders and eyes gazing adoringly at him. His hand cupped my face so his thumb could press against my cheek and then trail through my hair as though he were trying to remember the sensation for when he was gone. There was just a slight glimmering sheen over his green eyes, like he was tearing up. I was about to say something to clear the air, keep him distracted from whatever sentimental thoughts were in his mind, and keep myself from crying too.

“Jimmy, I wish- ”

But there was a heavy knock on the door that called him away.

Now the tears fell from my eyes like tiny waterfalls, but I didn’t seem to notice them and didn’t bother to wipe them off my cheeks. Jimmy already had his luggage by the door and the driver carried them off into the boot of the car. It was raining outside now, almost a perfect reflection of the grey mood now overcasting the bright happiness I woke up to. I walked out with him, barely even noticing the wet droplets dripping into my hair, soaking into my sweater, and ricocheting off the tears on my cheeks.

Jimmy clutched me into him as we stood just a mere foot away from the car that was supposed to be taking him away to the airport right now. My head collided against his shoulder as my hands grasped at his clothes, thinking that somehow if I held onto him tightly enough that he wouldn’t have to go. He drew back, a small smile on his pink lips to hide the sorrow in his eyes. His hand at the side of my face wiped away some of the wetness on my cheek and pulled me closer, for one final kiss before he really had to leave.

“I’ll miss you every day.” He confessed.

“I will too. Call me whenever you can.” I pleaded, trying to hold back a flood of sentimental expressions.

“I will, and I love you, Y/N.”

The dam broke and I pulled him into an embrace again, my tears soaking into his shirt with the rain as confessions of love fell endlessly from my lips. He soothingly ran his hands down my back and reassured me he’d be home soon. The driver pulled him away and I stood at the sidewalk, watching the car drive away until it was completely out of sight.


	29. finger exercises (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> hints at nsfw

Request: "hi hello so i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for days. you know those finger stretching exercises that musicians sometimes do before shows? i can’t stop thinking about helping jimmy with his little pre-show rituals :)) help? i’m thinking lots of fluff and maybe smut (if ya feel like it) with fem!reader. thanks dear!"

Forty-three minutes until the show and the backstage area was already boisterous. Everything was being set into its perfect place, Grant was shouting at people to get their jobs done faster and Cole was goofing off somewhere. I sat back in one of the dressing rooms with the band as they chatted off their pre-show jittery energy and dolled themselves up for the audience. Jimmy fiddled around on his first guitar for the night, hissing in pain under his breath as his hands tensed slightly and raising my concern.

“Are you alright?” I asked quietly, not wanting to alert his bandmates.

“Yeah, my hands just get sore if I use them so much.” He explained, stretching out the stiff muscles and putting the guitar down on the couch beside him.

“Can I do anything to help you?”

An impish grin found its way onto his lips, “I can think of a few ways…”

“James Page, you know what I mean.” I scolded.

“What? I won’t have to tire out a hand.”

“You’re nasty and wouldn’t be doing that back here with the whole band as audience anyways.”

He shrugged and felt around his forearms a bit to find the sore spots. I took over for the massaging since his own hands weren’t as up to the task, carefully rubbing the over-exerted muscles with my fingers and glancing up at the guitarist every so often to make sure I didn’t accidentally hurt him by pressing too hard. He tensed slightly when I got near the knuckles at the base of each finger and at his forearms.

The rest of the room grew silent with Jimmy’s withdrawal from their conversations, three pairs of eyes fixed on the domestic scene of me carefully massaging his hands. I pretended not to notice, continuing my motions for a few more minutes. Jimmy went through a few hand exercises and fingered a few runs over the neck of his guitar to test out his hands, pulling me in for a quick kiss in gratitude with his hands no longer in pain.

“Do you take other clients, dear Y/N?” Robert questioned.

“You don’t have any muscle pains, Percy. And besides, I’m sure you have other candidates who are much more eager about massaging you.” I pointed out.

“In that case,” Jonesy piped up. “Would I be a suitable clientele for you?”

I smiled, knowing that he was both partially serious and was also just taking the piss with the pouty singer. It was also a perfect opportunity for me to mess with Jimmy a bit too.

“Certainly, I can’t imagine how tense you must be from switching between two instruments and having no one here to help you relieve it. Maybe I’ll have to visit your room tonight and help you.”

This made Jimmy turn to face me, the smile wiped off his face with a jealousy and surprise flashing in his eyes. I tried hiding my smile as I played along with the bassist and made eyes at him, doing my best to sell the part of the groupie with (very) wandering lust. Jimmy’s grip around my waist tightened and his whole frame tensed as I continued my banter with his bandmate.

“I’ll have to find some way to express my gratitude to you, Y/N…”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way Mr. Jones.” I winked. “I’m sure Jimmy can give you a few tips on that endeavor.”

“No, that’s absolutely out of the question.” The guitarist spat through gritted teeth, possessively pulling me closer to him.

“Aw, take a joke Jimmy. You Capricorns have no sense of humor.” Robert laughed.

Jimmy’s ice-cold glare spurned everyone to leave the room, Grant making up some excuse of the other three boys needing to answer some family phone calls. I turned to Jimmy with excited intimidation within me, knowing that I’d be in trouble with him and most definitely lasciviously punished after the show. The energy from the show would only rile him up more and I’d be the willing victim of it.

His now untensed hands drew me right up to his own body, a bulge prodding against my low abdomen and sending a heated pulse through me. I used to be tinged with fear when he acted like this with me but it turned to anticipation, knowing that through his tormenting and teasing there was indescribable pleasure. Jimmy had nothing holding him back now with the room empty besides the impending start of the show.

“Darling, you know you’re playing with fire and your intent to tease me isn’t going to go unpunished.” Jimmy began.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

“Of course, you insatiable girl… I should’ve known. Maybe I should just leave you alone tonight, force you to squirm all night long and not let you touch yourself.”

“Or I can go see Jonesy since he seemed interested in spending a night together, and without being mean to me.”

“Oh, you’re in for it when I get to you tonight. Might want to get some sleep back here during the show ‘cause I’m not letting you rest at all, starting the minute we get back to the hotel.” He threatened, moving his arm momentarily from my waist to smack my behind.

“No, I said I wouldn’t be with you.” I persisted. “You’re mean and I want to help your bandmate with his, uh, problem.”

His face flushed red with frustration at my mention of Jonesy again and tried flipping the argument the other way around: “Don’t you like it when I’m mean, Y/N? It certainly seems that way from how you- ”

His comeback was cut off by Grant entering the dressing room and calling him to get his ass to the wings of the stage. I gave him a look of gratitude, not knowing how much longer my resolve would hold against Jimmy’s flaming fury and having built up enough frustration in him already. The raven-haired guitarist huffed, ordering me to stand at the side of the stage and watch him rather than let me take a cat nap backstage since I was being so bratty. I followed along, not wanting to cause too much more distress. However, I did move over to stand at the side of the stage closer to the bassist than the guitarist, just to tick Jimmy off a little even though the view of Jimmy was better from here.

The show started without a hitch, Robert eagerly greeting the crowd after the first song. There was a lightning hot energy buzzing through the whole concert hall that only seemed to intensify the heated, playful tension between myself and Jimmy. He turned slightly as if to play with an amp but he seemed to have lost something, only to have Grant point me out on the opposite side of the stage. I was laughing at his clueless, frazzled reaction but immediately froze in place when he turned his head towards me. Under the curtain of wavy black hair, his green eyes shone with a thrilling threat behind them.


	30. homecoming (john bonham x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Bonham x reader  
> no warnings, just fluff

Request: "Ooh can I request domestic moments with john Henry please ilh🥺"

Rain pattered against the window, finally being released from the grey clouds above back onto the earth. It was like a cleansing of sorts, the world outside a bit more refreshed after rainfall cleared away and the smell of petrichor lingered in the air. The weather was also perfect for staying inside and restoring a sense of comfort to myself. It was lonely and a lot more boring to be home alone all the time for months on end.

I woke up late in an empty bed since John was out on tour, but at least he was due back home soon. It was easily noticeable when he was gone — there wasn’t nearly as much warmth and noise in the house. I also felt jumpy, any noise immediately suspicious or made me think John had come home only to find nothing there. To cure a bit of the loneliness, I tried to call him but quickly realized with the time difference that he was probably asleep or flying on a plane. Instead, curling up with a good book and some tea had to suffice for the morning.

Only later in the day did I get up from my comfy seat on the bay window cushions to go to the kitchen and bake something, perhaps in celebration of John’s return. Seeing the colorful aura of autumn outside the house, and also looking through the pantry/cupboards to see what was readily available, made me decide on some pumpkin bread. John usually wasn’t too picky and would probably be too worn out from travel to complain. I put on some quiet music in the background, still not used to the quiet and got started.

Once the thick orange-tinted batter was mixed thoroughly, I carefully dropped it into a foil-lined bread pan and placed it into the hot oven, with a timer set for forty-five minutes. While waiting on the bread to be finished, I continued reading on through the book I hadn’t finished earlier. It was a bit therapeutic to be able to immerse myself into the setting and picture myself as a silent bystander in the scenes between characters. My mind was able to think of imagery and feelings that didn’t include the same few rooms of the house or the dull longing in my chest.

The rain was lightening up outside and the scent of warm spices wafted through the kitchen, already cheering me a bit as I put the book down. A buzz of excitement pulsed through my heart when I remembered that Bonzo would be home either late tonight or sometime tomorrow, according to the schedule Grant gave me. My happy thoughts were rudely interrupted by the shrill beeping of the timer, signaling that the bread was ready.

I quickly went to the oven, shutting off the alarm and pulling out the bread to double-check it with a toothpick. It came out clean and I placed the hot pan with the wonderfully smelling pumpkin bread over a thick wooden cutting board to let it cool off a bit before placing it in a prettier serving platter. As I tidied up the kitchen, a pair of arms snaked around my waist and made me nearly jump out of my skin. That is, until I felt a familiar face nuzzle into my neck and press a kiss to my cheek.

“I-I thought you weren’t coming until much later.” I muttered out, feeling my eyes get a little teary out of joy.

“It was an accidental surprise, love. The interviews were cancelled so we got on the plane back home last night, but I’m glad it worked that way ‘cause I missed ya.” John explained, his arms hugging my backside closer into his body.

My whole being felt wrapped in a comforting, blanket-like warmth and my excitable nerves were finally put at peace with his presence at my side. I turned to see him, pressing a hand to the side of his face and unable to help the smile stretching at my lips. He looked tired, but also happy and relieved. His light eyes were framed with weariness, his dark hair was longer, his arms felt stronger after playing almost every night, but his smile still held the same delight it always had when he finally returned back home. As much as he absolutely adored his work, it was draining, and John longed for the private sanctuary of home.

John held me closer, my head pressed into his chest and arms loosely wrapped around his torso. His lips kissed at the crown of my head as his hand smoothed over my back and he kept reminding me how much he missed this. My sentimental tears soaked through his thin t-shirt, making him pull away in concern to ask if something was wrong.

“No, I’m just so happy you’re back because I missed having you around too. You at least had your bandmates and roadie friends around you.” I pointed out, wiping the wetness from my eyes.

“Poor thing, I never wanna leave you again so you’ll have to come on tour with me next time.”

“As much as I like the idea, let’s not think about that now since you just got home. Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, love. I jus’ wanna be with you an’ hold ya right now.” He reassured me.

The entire rest of the day and night, John was like a lost puppy that wouldn’t leave me for a single instant as his hands remained holding me somewhere at all times. I loved the affection after being deprived of it for so many months and leaned into him, a silent message of needing him with me. John held my hands and nestled his head over my own while talking to me about how the tour went, interesting things he saw, the like. He then asked about how I held up at home and was only further convinced by my answer that I needed to come along with him next time.

We talked late into the night, Bonzo still adjusting to the time difference while I was far too excited to see him again to be sleepy. A little while after midnight, we had some tea and the fresh pumpkin bread as the conversation continued on about what happened since the day he’d gone off on tour. I lied my head down in his lap while his fingers played with my hair and he obliged to my request of singing for me. John quietly lulled me to sleep with his beloved rendition of The Wind Cries Mary and the soothing circles he was drawing over my back. My world finally felt at peace, no more longing and wishing for him to return home safely with the two of us finally back so closely together.


	31. shower (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 90s Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "hiii can you please do some passionate love making in the bathroom with robert please? you’re a really amazing writer btw 💕"

As many “old man” jokes Robert wanted to make at himself, there was no denying that he was as electric as ever on that stage every night he did a show. Only now the attention of the audience was predominantly on him and that seemed to embolden him into dancing around the stage more or dressing almost as boldly as he’d done in his younger years. It was quite a show to watch from the sides of the stage, which I was lucky to do every night he did a performance.

There would always be a fantastic energy backstage before and after the concerts, but tonight something was different. The usual energy of anticipation was elevated by something more intense radiating off of the singer and buzzing through the air. He seemed restless: pacing through the dressing rooms, feeling too warm to bother wearing a shirt with his tight leather pants until the last minute, even more innuendos spouting from his lips, and only half-jokingly making obscene gestures or motions as he finished accessorizing himself.

I was on a phone call while everyone was getting ready, that is, until a particularly bothersome Robert barged into the room. He dragged a nearby chair over and placed it directly behind me, planting himself down onto the seat before pulling me down to sit on his lap. My mind was so focused in trying to hear the voice on the other line that I didn’t even bother to protest.

With an arm possessively wrapped over my hips to hold me in place, he used his other hand to part my legs over his own. I still wasn’t really paying attention to him and tried to offer anecdotes to the needlessly stressed relative on the phone. His hand massaged a trail up my thigh and that’s when I started to get a bit distracted. Only when his touch reached right over the in-seam of my jeans and pushed rough circles into the spot with his fingertips did I completely turn my attention away with a stifled gasp in my throat.

“Robert!” I hissed between my teeth, covering the receiver for a moment so the relative didn’t hear what was going on.

“Yes, Y/N?” He questioned innocently, continuing his ministrations as though his hands had a mind of their own and he couldn’t stop them from making me squirm.

There was no scolding him out of this, so I had to conclude the call, reassuring the unnerved relative that I’d call them back soon but had some pressing business (pressing into my backside, at least) to attend to at the moment. I reached to put the telephone back into place then shifted around to straddle the brash singer with a cold glare and crossed arms.

“Shouldn’t you be saving your energy for the show?” I asked.

“What d’ya mean? I’m not gettin’ tired at all an’ we’ve got just under ten minutes ‘til we gotta be on stage.”

“Then go chat with your musician friends, hopefully your restlessness is contagious. I was on the phone and clearly pre-occupied with some family business. I’ll be watching you from the wings then accompany you back to the hotel suite anyways, it’s not like this is the last time you’ll see me today.” I reasoned, pulling the restraint off my hips and standing back up from his lap.

“You’re right, but why cut our time short?” He winked.

“Because you’re due on stage soon and shouldn’t be all the way back here.”

Robert whined playfully as he got back up and dragged his feet on the way out, heading towards the stage as he joined his fellow musicians. I followed behind at a distance, watching all the music crew cheering and wishing each other luck just before stepping out to center stage. He also finally decided to put a shirt on at the last minute. The audience clamored at their presence. The energy of the space was absolutely electric, they couldn’t help but smile as they basked within it.

I sat through the show in the wings and let myself be blown away by his performance, as usual. He’d send me winks and silly faces between the intense, passionate look that he sang with. But the restlessness in him started to be made clear to his audience: the relatively innocent dance moves that he did turned a bit raunchier further and further into the night. The shirt came right back off, sweat dripped down his face and torso, his wildly curling hair turned even more disorderly, more moans slipped into his singing voice, and the show becoming intrinsically seductive.

To the fortune of the flabbergasted members of the crowd, Robert soon bid everyone goodnight and had the crowd cheer for his music crew while he ran off into the wings. His arm corralled me into his sweaty body as he pulled me along through the hallways to the dressing room before I could react. He pulled me even closer by the hip to press a rough kiss to my jaw then released me to wipe the sweat off his body with a towel.

“You’re so antsy today.” I remarked, chuckling at his flightiness.

“Can’t help it, love.”

“Clearly. You gave those people quite a show but thank goodness your marauding days are public knowledge – you could’ve given someone heart palpitations.”

He tossed his head back with a hearty laugh then danced around and gestured at himself in a foolishly obscene, overly sexy way as he grabbed a water bottle. While mocking a strip tease as he changed out of his clothes, he made a comment that maybe he was in the wrong profession and should’ve been an exotic dancer. I couldn’t help but giggle at him, my hand coming up to my mouth to stifle my laughter.

Always one to joke, especially if it was cheeky enough to make someone laugh or blush, Robert continued his monologue of his fictional exotic dancer persona while redressing. My cheeks started to hurt from laughing along with him and I intently listened, imagining him just as he described: dancing provocatively in either skimpy, flashy costumes or dolled up in drag. However, he couldn’t seem to decide on a suitable stage name and said I’d have to pick one for him as we left the dressing rooms together.

The drive over to the hotel was short and relatively quiet since the driver likely didn’t want to hear what was on our minds. But the evident energy between us through shared glances at each other, subtle touches, and mouthed dirty talk was like a raging fire. Heat pulsed through my body as I readjusted my sitting position for a little friction in that last mile to the hotel. His riled-up energy had spread to me and it was too strong for me to bother resisting it, especially knowing how it would be released.

We got out of the car, thanked the driver, and went up to our room without giving much care to our surroundings as our eyes were locked. He unlocked the door with a key he had in the pocket of his jeans and walked in with me casually, our luggage already lined up by the door. The anticipation was starting to kill me. We were already in the privacy of the room, but he still had yet to continue what he’d started before the show.

“Fancy a shower, Y/N?” The singer offered, taking me by the hand with a debonair expression.

“Sure. You obviously need it.” I quipped, earning a swat on the backside.

His demeanor was as casual as it’d been in the car… until he shut the bathroom door behind me, immediately pinning my body against it with his body pressing against mine to keep me in place. I didn’t even have a moment to react when he kissed me deeply and roughly, his hands somehow slipping me out of my shirt without my notice. I gasped in surprise while he moaned against my lips at sliding a hand below the waistband of my pants and feeling the wetness that he caused dripping over his fingers.

All too soon, he withdrew from me but kept himself planted a few mere inches from my own form. I gazed up into his blue eyes and almost melted at the intense, smoldering darkness in them. His glistening fingertips were brought up and pressed between my swollen lips, a silent signal to take them into my mouth.

“Y’know I’ve been waitin’ for this all day long.” Robert remarked as I parted my lips for him.

A snappy comment was stifled in my mouth as I cleaned off his fingers with my tongue.

Robert gave me a disapproving look, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, darlin’. It’s unbecoming of a lady.”

I tilted my head back, allowing his fingers to slip back out between my lips with a glare as I made a coherent retort: “I think I’m past ladyship at this point, you’re a terrible influence.”

He snickered and pressed another kiss to my lips, breaking away to tug down the beltloops of my pants. “These need to come off.”

I stood bare before him and played with the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, hinting at my intention of undressing him as he’d just done to me. Robert was observant and pulled the shirt over his head. My hand pressed against the center of his broad chest, feeling his strong heartbeat against my palm and placed a kiss at the base of his neck. One of his large hands cradled the back of my head and he looked down at me with an adoring expression, excusing himself for a moment to turn on the shower as originally planned.

All that was left was to remove his tight-fitting pants and step into the sleek granite shower. My body was once again pressed to the walls, these cool walls that sent a chill down my bare back. The warm steam from the water created a haze in the small, enclosed space. Our skin was dampened by the water and our touches felt much more connected under the hot stream. There was nothing to distract my senses from the intensity between us, just him and me pressed together with the slick feeling of warm water dripping over us.

His wettened curls straightened out and pressed against my shoulders when he leaned back in to kiss me, beads of water from his face dripping onto my own. Something about this felt even more intimate than most of anything else we’d done before. Our lips moved against each other in some kind of dance, pressing together then drawing away for breath and roaming over the other person’s skin. Even lower, our hands seemed to be mirroring actions as well, with their grasping and teasing.

Robert hummed in pleasure, “Mm… quit playin’ woman or we’re gonna drain all the hot water an’ have people bangin’ on the door.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile, brushing some wet hair from my face and retorted: “Don’t know why you’re complaining about bangin’ but if you’re in such a rush…”

My voice trailed off the end of my sentence to let my actions speak for me. I pivoted around so my chest was against the cold wall and my backside arched to have my rear press against his bulge. My hands remained firm on the wall on either side of my head. A quiet chuckle came from his lips at my easy compliance. His hands groped at my rear to rile me up further, the massage of-sorts ending briefly when he spread my ass open and pushed into me with a deep hum of satisfaction.

“Fuck, baby.” Robert moaned lowly into my ear as he leaned his head onto my shoulders.

His pace was achingly slow as he eased himself into me, coaxing sharp moans and hissing breaths out of me with every inch. I threw my head back when Robert plunged his remaining length into me harshly, my mouth falling open in shock. Only then did he pick up the pace and didn’t stop at the almost animalistically rough pace of his hips slamming against mine. My chest was shoved against the wall as my whole body pulsated with Robert’s rhythm and my breathing turned erratic enough to make my lungs sting. Slews of dirty words fell from his lips, mixed in with my name and deep groans, that only made me more desperate for release from the building desire within me.

I clenched around him, earning a pained whine from Robert and a smack from one of the hands that was firmly gripping my hips in place. My pulse hammered in my chest and waves of heat rippled through my whole abdomen. I leaned against the wall with my forehead pressed into it as my legs grew weak with Robert’s unmerciful pace, my breathy moans getting higher and higher with the pulsation between our bodies. The steamy air of the enclosed shower space only brought a hotter flush to my face and made me feel lightheaded.

As my release set in and a wet kiss was pressed into my neck, Robert never slowed. He was close and I could feel it, but he was riding through it with an unbreakable stamina. My legs were nearly giving out as a deep growl hummed against my skin and I felt hot spurts of liquid filling me, Robert’s arms holding me tightly in place around my abdomen so I couldn’t move away. His hips drew back slowly but he kept his arms around me, the sticky liquid immediately dripping down my thighs.

“Turn around, love, but don’t move from that spot.” He instructed.

I rotated around to face him with my weak frame leaning against the wall for support and my chest still heaving for air. A tingling still pulsed through my core and I shut my eyes at the buzzing sensation, only to have Robert take advantage of the moment. The water stopped raining down onto my head and seemed to stop for a mere second before I felt its pressure aimed right between my legs. I cried out at the overwhelming stimulation when I was already feeling sensitive. The singer had dropped to his knees to aim the showerhead at my clit, a cocky look on his face from my reaction, and his finger teasing at my entrance to let any of his remaining cum drip out. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes and my whole body felt like it was trembling, especially my legs.

Robert finally let me go when my thighs were shaking and I was nearly screaming. He placed the showerhead back, shut off the water, and gently carried me out to the bed. My body was covered in water droplets, my hair stuck to my shoulders, and my hips were bruised from his hands. I was still trying to collect my breath and steady my heartbeat as Robert dried me off with a towel before joining me. He cradled me in his arms, promising much more to me once I had the energy for it.


	32. opening act (led zep x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Led Zeppelin x fem!reader  
> just a little weed at the end

Request: "ok so here’s a prompt: ur the front woman of the opening band for zep in 1969 and robert and jimmy (and just the classic rock community) are simping over u but ur like “men are trash” so they like try to charm u and kinda compete and they write u songs and poems and stuff to get ur attention"

I was starting to get more recognition in the music world, but the attention only boomed when the rock journals found out I was selected to tour with the (in)famous Led Zeppelin. Sure, some of them thought I either fucked my way into the job or was a hot piece of ass that they’d hired solely to stare at. But other journalists revoked that idea from my clear establishment against the sexism within the industry as well as my declaration of critique towards the men who participated in some of the worse offenses. I didn’t exactly name names, but there was some heavy hinting towards the Stones with no clear allusions to my current employers, so they didn’t seem bothered by my statements.

As the tour kicked off, they seemed to be well-informed on the aforementioned statements and treated me just as they did the rest of their close colleagues on the road besides being a little extra protective. I enjoyed their company but kept my distance, having heard a few of the lascivious rumors about them and definitely not wanting to condone their behavior. However, during the tour their post-show habits weren’t really too terrible and they didn’t overstep any boundaries. I felt my cold façade giving away but didn’t let them have the satisfaction of seeing it. Not when it was so much fun for me to have some power over them as they tried to win me over in various ways and half-jokingly flirt to either receive either indifference or a better flirt back.

My set had just finished for the night and the crowd was electric, especially for greeting an opening act like this. Sweat from performing over the last half-hour and from the heat of the bright stage lights rolled down my body, pieces of my hair sticking to my face as I smiled out at the audience. They cheered for me and I felt a bubble of pride swell in my chest for how far I’d made it. Camera lights flashed from the blackness beyond the first few rows then I took a few bows, handing the stage over to the main attraction. The crowd whooped continuously as the guys joined me on stage with a few pats on my back and I slipped away, watching them start their show from the wings.

A full two-and-a-half hours passed by too quickly, even for me, and the guys waved goodnight to their ecstatic audience. Robert was the first to leave the stage since he only had to put his microphone back up on its stand and he noticed me standing off to the side with starry eyes at their explosive performance. He flashed a dazzling smile as he came towards me, draping a strong arm over my shoulders to guide the both of us back to the dressing room.

“You must be a good luck charm or somethin’ – we haven’t played a single show that wasn’t absolutely fantastic. Hopefully we can keep ya around, maybe open for you?” He winked.

“Ha! Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t have a girl group opening for me since all you men get all the attention unless the guy journalists and photographers think some chick’s hot enough to bang and moderately talented.”

“Ouch, that rejection hurt… but it’s unfortunate ya have a point there.” He agreed. “I promise that isn’t why we hired ya, Pagey only associates the group with people he thinks are absolutely brilliant and you more than fit the bill.”

“Thanks.” I chuckled, picking up a towel for myself and for Robert since the two of us were still covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Well, the decision also came with the benefit of having another sharp-witted and lovely person along for the trip. We hope we haven’t been too inhospitable with some of the, uh, after-show guests and entourage.”

“Not at all, it busies you all from noticing the people I go back to the hotels with as my guests. I think I actually stole a few from you and Jimmy back in San Francisco, maybe even Seattle too.”

Robert clutched a hand to the necklace pressed against his chest in mock-offense, only to congratulate me with a mischievous smile a moment later. He did, however, quietly offer to collaborate on a non-musical front as long as our chosen guests were alright with it. I silently considered his offer until his bandmates joined us in the room a few seconds later: drinking down whatever drinks were left, wiping the sweat off their bodies as much as possible, and reclining back against the couches until the cars were ready to take us all back to the hotel.

The cheerful drummer noticed our conversation and piped up, changing the subject entirely onto what I’d like to do with a free day someplace along the tour. We all agreed that sleep was the ultimate goal and then discussed various museums or attractions we’d heard of. Robert seemed very much in favor of stopping at an antique shop in search of more jewelry. Bonzo pined after the one automobile museum in Seattle he wasn’t able to go to this time around. The two men also delicately hinted at going to a gentlemen’s club, looking carefully to me as if afraid to offend me.

I rolled my eyes and cleared the obviously tense air: “You can stop looking at me every single time you talk about women, I’m not a token example. Besides, as long as you’re respectful to the women, in this situation or in general, I don’t see why we shouldn’t indulge as we’d be prime clients for them.”

“’We?’ Oh, I like you even more, Y/N.” The drummer guffawed, drawing the attention of the eavesdropping bassist beside him.

Jonesy piped up: “You all criticize me for being old-fashioned or not having a sense of humor but you’re not giving the poor girl a break, why are you so shocked she wants to have fun?”

A wide smile came over my face and I outstretched my hand to high-five the bassist as his bandmates sat silently. Jimmy now turned to watch the scene, especially as Robert’s expression surprisingly reflected disappointment and Y/N’s reflected victory. But before he could hear about what happened, Grant came in to announce the cars were waiting outside for them. The scene concluded and a night of private revelry began.

The next day we were out on the road again, all of us at various stages of exhaustion and the monotony of driving along the road for so long wasn’t helping. Robert was enthralled in his Tolkien while the rhythm section leaned against each other on a sofa, completely passed out. Jimmy came out of nowhere, taking me by the wrist with a guitar case in hand to the back bedroom. I gave him a suspicious look as I followed him and sat down at the foot of the haphazardly tucked bed.

“Why’d you bring me back here?”

“You looked bored and I wanted to play something new for you. Besides, everyone else is asleep.”

“Robert’s awake.”

“He might as well be in a vegetative state when he’s reading those books.” Jimmy countered, removing the warm-colored acoustic from its case.

“Alright, what’s the song called? Or does it have a name yet?”

He sat down right beside me and plucked at the strings quietly to check their tuning briefly, “Well I wrote most of the guitar part back when I was still with the Yardbirds but only now did I finish it and started thinking a little bit about the lyrics.”

I nodded, silently listening as he strummed out the song for me with a focused look in his green eyes that were partially shielded by a curtain of his long black hair. There was an air of bittersweet sentiment in his playing. It was beautiful enough on its own, I couldn’t imagine even adding lyrics to the tune with such a prominent guitar part that didn’t need to be covered up. Just by listening to it, I could feel a caring longing from his playing and yet, the phrases ended with a tinge of nonchalance. It was like he was trying to hold himself back, knowing that he couldn’t have whatever he was longing for.

The song concluded sweetly, and Jimmy looked back up to me with the guitar still in his lap. A bashful smile came over his face as he waited to hear my take on it, hope for approval evident in his gaze. I didn’t want to flatter him too much, but the song was so truly pretty that I didn’t even start with a quip or sarcastic comment.

“Jimmy, it was beautiful. Can I ask what it’s about?”

He seemed caught off-guard by my genuine compliment but smiled, “Thank you. And uh, well it started about this girl I knew when things started to go awry between us because I didn’t want her to leave but I understood why it happened. I was so busy with my music and she didn’t get it, and it wasn’t like I was playing too many big gigs at that time. But I kept working on it not too long ago so I guess it’s also a little about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, everyone’s always trying to steal away your attention and I doubt any of us will win since you don’t seem too pleased about it, but none of us want to stop just in case you change your mind.”

My face heated, also surprised at his genuine remark. “I’m sorry if I seem standoffish. I just don’t want people to think I’m here because of anything besides my own musical merit.”

“No worries, love. And I’m sorry to say this but it’s the truth – they probably won’t ever let up on those rumors so it wouldn’t matter if you did or didn’t get involved with any of us.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “How do I know you aren’t just trying to get me to sleep with you?”

He threw up his hands in compliance, “I mean you can call Robert in here if you like, he’s the only other person awake now.”

“Maybe I was quick to judge you, James Page. But don’t think you’re off the hook with me.” I quipped, giving him a kiss on the cheek and leaving with one more compliment about his song.

From that point on, Jimmy seemed to warm up to me more and was even more a gentleman than he was before. Robert was, well, himself – warm, jovial, dropping innuendos here and there. The two Johns formed a bit of a dichotomy: one for spontaneous fun and impulsivity, the other for clever conversations and thought-out mischievous schemes. Never a dull moment on the Zeppelin tour. They each tried whisking me away, either alone or together, still in more of an effort to win me over and I was having a harder time keeping the wall of total professionalism up.

Bonzo woke me up one morning by breaking into my hotel room and rushing me to get ready before the others noticed we were gone. Perplexed, but mostly wanting to get him to be quiet, I groggily followed his requests and made myself moderately presentable. He took my hand, somehow relocked the door to my room, pulled me along through the silent hallways, and finally let me go when we stood in the parking lot outside at a flashy-looking car. Only now did I notice the sun hadn’t even risen yet in whatever city we were in (Omaha, I think) and the roads were almost entirely clear.

He unlocked the doors with a set of keys he probably swiped off Cole and welcomed me inside. I was still far too sleep deprived to put up an argument and let my curiosity of his intentions be satisfied. John started up the car, smiling at its engine’s roar, and down we drove through the vacant streets of the small city. We tore over the pavement with the radio keeping us company until John reached the outskirts of the city and pulled off to some scenic area.

The landscape was fairly flat which allowed us to see the sunrise without anything covering it up in the foreground. We sat up carefully on the hood of the car to watch. My sleepiness faded away as my eyes widened in awe at the beautiful sight before me. Rosy pink swirled with a rich golden yellow in the sky as the sun reflected a liquid, neon-like orange glow over the fields. The stars faded away and the pale moon seemed to dissolve into the colorful haze.

I finally looked to the sweetly smiling drummer and embraced him impulsively, still in awe at the view before us. John delicately wrapped an arm behind my back as we continued watching the progression of the sun taking its place in the morning sky. Time passed by unnoticeably until John made a remark that we should go back before someone thought we’d been kidnapped. On the way back to the hotel, he got us breakfast and returned to a very angry (a little embarrassed too) Cole begging for the keys to the rental car.

“Ya can’t disappear like that, Bonz, almost gave poor Grant a heart attack. An’ don’t steal away our lovely lady either.” Robert scolded him playfully.

Us two “troublesome scoundrels” rolled our eyes as the managers’ lecture ensued, threatening to force us into more interviews if we dared to run off again. Then Grant turned his anger towards Cole since his negligence had given the drummer access to the car in the first place, which allowed me and Bonzo to leave the scene with Robert. Jimmy and Jonesy heard the story too, both of them requesting to be invited the next time we decided to run off.

Our next stop was Denver, and this was where Jonesy decided to join in on his bandmates’ plan to win my favor with all of them. Jimmy and Robert had gone gallivanting off into the night with their chosen guests. Bonzo went to either sleep or to cause mischief with Cole, and Grant signed off from his chaperoning duties for the night. That left me and Jonesy in the backstage area together, which he took full advantage of in his usual quietly clever ways.

He shared a car back to the hotel with me and invited me up to his room, promising that he had no nefarious plans in mind. I shrugged, too socially drained to pick out my own guest for the night yet still up for some casual company. John led me up to his room and insisted I stay on the balcony as he went to get something from his luggage. I sat down at one of the lounge chairs and observed the glowing city beyond the deck – people roaming the streets, music playing from somewhere, cars driving down the roads, bright stars twinkling above. The cool summer air felt nice and soothing against my skin after being in the onstage lights then in a stuffy backstage area the previous four hours or so.

Jonesy returned shortly and outstretched his hand to me, a rolled blunt between his fingers that I cautiously accepted. I trusted him but his intentions seemed a bit shady since he was trying to get me high. He sat down in the chair beside mine and offered a light to me before starting with his. Just breathing in and exhaling that first puff was so relaxing that I practically felt the tension in my body melting away. Jonesy turned to face me with a lazy smile, his blue eyes shining brightly enough in the night light to put the stars to shame.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, noticing my content expression.

My smile widened and I sighed, “Not to sound philosophical, but everything and nothing.”

Jonesy seemed amused at my answer and motioned for me to elaborate.

“Everything because I never really believed that all this could happen to me, even the shitty things I have to deal with. But also nothing because I couldn’t tell you anything specific that made me happy, just how I feel right now.”

“That is quite philosophical, and you’ve only taken one hit off that thing.” He quipped.

“Then let me ask why you’re smiling. For someone who played a three-hour show, you don’t seem very exhausted.”

“It was a good show, no complaints on our playing. And I’ve got decent company up here with me that isn’t going to cause any damages to our public appearance or the hotel room.”

I raised my brows, “I could easily do both if I really wanted to.”

“But you won’t.” He determined. “I don’t know everything about you, but I’ve learned you’re not a troublemaker unless it’s called for.”

“Thanks. And I’ve caught on to your tactics of planting mischievous ideas in people’s heads, so you’re just deceptively a non-troublemaker.”

“You’ve wounded me.” He cried with a smile.

I shrugged nonchalantly and took another hit or two off the joint, looking out over the city again as I blew out the cloudy smoke from between my lips. My head felt light and my body felt full of warmth, like a blanket had been wrapped over my shoulders. Jonesy didn’t prattle on some irrelevant topic to fill the empty air, instead electing to quietly observe the city as I was doing. He liked making funny faces to communicate at times rather than speak needlessly.

The air turned colder later in the night and we went back inside the room, crashing on the couch together with my head leaning onto John’s shoulder. He ran a hand through my hair a few times before scooting back, apparently feeling amazed at my hair and repositioning himself to observe it in detail. I giggled at his sudden fascination and almost felt the sensation of floating as my head tilted forward in amusement. We spent the next, however long period of time, straight-faced as possible while making jokes to make the other break the stoic expression. I think I wasn’t used to whatever particular strain of weed this was because Jonesy was winning by a landslide, but perhaps he was truly hilarious and I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of fair victory over me.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got another one. It’s a poem I’ve just come up with:

O Lady mine,

For whom the stars shine,

Whose face is pretty

And jokes are witty:

You have strong powers to mystify

And are especially delightful when you’re high.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter and felt my head fall forward into my lap, the last line doing away with the elegance of the rest of the poem. Tears started to flow down my cheeks and my mouth hurt from smiling so much, the joint making me find his jokes even more humorous. John was no help to curing my needless giggling, tickling my side lightly until I fell down onto the couch cushions.

“Jonesy! Stop! I can’t breathe!” I gasped, trying to stop myself from laughing.

He drew back his hands and laughed along with me, grasping at my sides to pull me up against his chest as I caught my breath. I leaned my head against his chest and tried stifling my laughter, the joint long forgotten by now as it sat burning out in an ashtray. John planted a kiss to my head and held me in his arms, my heavy eyelids falling in exhaustion. We both drifted off in the wee hours of the morning until Grant came to wake us, deep hunger in our stomachs by then.

I knew I’d miss the boys once this tour was over and relished every day of us being together, taking polaroid photos to capture moments along the way. Only towards the end of the tour did I verbally confess my sentiments and gratitude to each of them, their kind gestures as well as the fun non-concert events to be forever in my memory. They each cried like little babies and wouldn’t let me out from their arms the whole last week of the tour. Even afterwards, we would visit each other and meet up when our busy schedules allowed. Men overall were still scoundrels, but I suppose these few were alright.


	33. three's not a crowd (jimmy page & john paul jones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Paul Jones & Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> very nsfw

Request: "hiya i love your work!!! could u do something nsfw with jonsey, jimmy and reader... all at the same time and quite kinky??"

“Poor Jonesy, he tends to slink off to some quiet corner every night and spend the rest of them all alone.” I observed, seeing the reserved bassist taking a sip of Jack and study the room with mild disinterest.

“You’ve got such a soft heart, love. He prefers it that way to avoid our… ruckus, if you like.” Jimmy explained, an arm over my hip.

I gave him a pointed look. “Jim, he doesn’t have to be here and I’m sure he’s just a little lonely sometimes on the road. He just doesn’t indulge the same way you all do.”

“What’s your point with all this? Or just an observation?”

“Oh, nothing… just thinking a bit since he gets unnoticed in comparison with all the attention on you and Percy.” I sighed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. “I think I’ll head back to our room, the party’s a bit stuffy with all these people in here.”

His hand lingered a bit over me, his mind obviously still thinking over what I just said and reading into my words for any underlying message. A bashful smile came over my face, knowing that I might be insinuating something brash and that Jimmy was probably far too possessive to even entertain the thought. The most he might do is chat with his bandmate about something non-musical for once.

I finally breathed in some cool air and relaxed my frame as I stepped into our vacant room. The slightly ajar balcony doors let in the comforting night breeze that relieved the heat of the crowded party from just a moment before. Speeding up the process of the night’s sure course, I slipped off my tight-fitting clothes and walked over to the bedroom, slightly shutting the door behind me as I reclined over the silky bed with just my undergarments on. Much better.

The main door soon clicked open again and a burst of excitement shot through my chest, expecting Jimmy to come through the bedroom door in his sweeping, mysterious manner any second now. I was almost squirming for him, especially after that electric performance that left me absolutely dazed and wanton as I watched from the side of the stage. My hand almost lingered down between my thighs but I knew better than to be caught like that with Jimmy so close to the door. The footsteps quickly approaching the bedroom door seemed to coordinate with my flitting heartbeat.

But I was met with an unexpected sight. Someone of shorter stature with straight honey-brown hair cropped right at the shoulders and a shy smile on their face – Jonesy. I tried to momentarily pull the sheets up around me, thinking the bassist probably didn’t anticipate seeing this much of me for whatever reason he was here. He muttered out some kind of reassurance I didn’t quite hear but I looked up at him in confusion.

“No offense to you at all, Jonesy, but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party or getting a good night’s sleep or something?” I questioned, a strange twisting feeling developing in my stomach as my eyes searched for Jimmy.

“Oh, I thought this was your ide- ”

The bedroom doors were pushed fully open, the raven-haired guitarist clapping a hand over his bandmate’s shoulder and looking down to me. He seemed pleased at my bewildered state, which only bewildered me more. I was starting to connect the dots in my head, feeling the room to be a bit too warm now as a flush spread through my body but Jimmy making a very clear explanation a moment before I could ask him about all this.

“Y/N love, how do you feel about including dear ol’ Jonesy to the mix? It was your idea to not leave him all alone, yes?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let on to the full extent of my approval of this idea and only nodded quietly to Jimmy.

He smiled, “You’ll have to take both of us since I’m not too happy just sharing you like that. Is that alright with you, darling?”

“Yes Jimmy.” I answered steadily, looking up at him as he stood above me in my half-seated posture.

His hand smoothed over the top of my head, lingering down my shoulder and even grazing over my sides before a single fingertip brushed a line down the middle of my barely covered core. The motion was a bit unconventional but was effective in beckoning me closer, now kneeling before them just at the foot of the bed. My eyes flickered over to Jonesy who was quietly watching the dynamic between us with interest. Jimmy’s hands came to rest loosely at my neck, cloaked underneath a layer of my hair while I looked up at him for further direction.

“Make our guest comfortable, Y/N.”

I smiled knowingly, turning my attention to the silent bassist and starting innocently with a kiss on the cheek as my hand ran through his soft hair – something I secretly wanted to do for ages. His hands found their way to clasp behind my back just over my hips while my own dared to slip under his shirt and brush at the skin of his stomach. I watched his pretty dark blue eyes widen as my touch reached down into his jeans and around his length.

But Jimmy soon chided me: “C’mon darling, quit teasing the man.”

Our eyes met again, Jimmy’s voice a simple guide in the background that instructed my next move. My hand came back up to the surface after palming him just a little, now playing with whatever restraints kept his pants in place until I could easily tug them down off his hips. He inhaled sharply, a peachy blush on his cheeks as he stood exposed before me; my job wasn’t done – our guest clearly wasn’t completely comfortable yet.

I leaned down, my hands immediately finding their positions: one at his hip, the other like a band over the base of his shaft. My eyes remained fixed at his face the whole time, watching for a sign of approval and gauging his reactions as my tongue lapped at the tip. I could sense Jimmy stiffening from the side, but only deepened my vulgar actions by taking his bandmate’s cock down my throat until I choked for air. Jonesy’s shy demeanor was slowly melting away, kindly combing his hands through my hair to hold it out of my face and breathing out pleasant curses. He pulled me off of him when he felt like he was getting too close, a thick strand of saliva trailing from his now-glistening length up to my mouth.

“Good work, angel. I think we better let John Paul cool off a little and undress before we take things further.”

Jimmy masked any shade of jealousy with his calm tone, using his hands to roughly shift me to face him now. I repeated what I’d done with his bandmate but teased just a bit more just to egg him on: tiny kitten licks at the ridge of his tip, tightening my grip around the base more as I pumped my hand over his length, even being a bit… mischievous… with my hands once I finally took him down my throat. The austerely powerful guitarist didn’t seem to enjoy my experimenting, gruffly pushing me back with a hand grasping me by the hair.

“Don’t you dare take advantage of me being nice to you, pet, or I can make things very unpleasant for you.” He warned.

“You wouldn’t. Not with Jonesy here.” I taunted with surety, motioning my head towards the still half-dressed bassist standing off to the side.

“I will if you keep acting like this.”

“Prove it.”

“You want it then?” Jimmy affirmed, apparent delight in his tone.

I nodded, a trace of a smirk over my lips because I knew Jimmy could comply to any of my requests. He gestured for me to take care of Jonesy while he rummaged through his treasure trove of “equipment” in his luggage by the door. I reached towards the bassist, pulling him close to come sit down beside me. He pulled the hem of his forest green shirt up over his head, lying back against the wall of pillows at the headboard in submission to me. My lips trailed down from his alcohol-tainted lips to the Adam’s apple bobbing at his neck to his collarbone to his chest, right over his sternum.

Just as I leaned back down, my mind set on maybe leaving a love bite or two at his hips, Jimmy’s hands grabbed at my wrists and pulled them back. He locked them away with the click of the leather handcuff locks I was no stranger to. But that didn’t stop me. I simply flicked my head to the side, moving my hair over to the one shoulder, and set off on my endeavor with my hands tied.

My teeth grazed and nipped, my tongue lapped and soothed, my lips sucked and kissed all at the very top of his thigh. Just to make it a little more pleasurable for him, I occasionally teased and trailed closer to where he really wanted me. He made the most encouraging groans and sighs over my head, his hands reaching to touch me in any way as his words failed him. I was already aching for either, or both, of them as I felt the desire to pull more of those raunchy sounds out of the reserved bassist and hear the familiar vulgarities from the guitarist who’d finally get his turn.

“Alright, love, I think you’ve made enough marks on him. Lie back so we can take care of you, help you get ready for us.” Jimmy commanded yet again, breaking the scene away.

I simply followed along, moving around with my hands clasped behind my back to lie down beside Jonesy and watch Jimmy as he approached me. He was quick to reduce me to the same bare state, ripping apart the thin, delicate fabric in a haste to move along with his plans. Whilst Jimmy parted my legs with the stature of a hungry wolf, his bandmate hesitantly caressed the edge of my face and pulled me closer to kiss me softly. It was like I was a velvety moth being pulled into the comforting glow of a candle, completely distracted by anything else.

Well, at least until Jimmy pressed his tongue onto me out of nowhere and made me squirm out of the delicate state I had been in. If it wasn’t for his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs to keep me in place, I would’ve been squeezing at his head with them. Fuck, it was so devilishly perfect as he ate me out. I could feel Jonesy’s eyes watching me as I cried out and threw my head back impulsively with each lap, suck, and delve from Jimmy.

He stopped momentarily, his mouth and chin shining with my wetness: “You can touch her, Jones. She’s just too overwhelmed to tell you herself.”

I nodded in confirmation, still trying to catch my breath before Jimmy resumed his post. The bassist cooperated, more of the reserved demeanor melting away as his calloused touch smoothed down my abdomen then back up to grasp at the suppler skin of my breast, feeling me up with more boldness than before. Both of their attention and touches were on me. I couldn’t help arching up towards them, desperately trying to relieve the close-approaching eruption that threatened to shatter through me with mumbled pleading and their interchanging names.

“Look at her, so pretty when she’s so close to letting go.” Jimmy remarked to his friend, using a hand to work at me while he used his mouth to speak.

“Are you sure she can handle both of us? She’s burning up.”

“She’ll impress you with how much she can handle, John.”

I only tensed euphorically at their words as they kept bringing me closer and closer to the edge: “Mmmmm- fuck! God, Jim you- shit!”

He snickered at my loss for words, knowing exactly when I’d be right at the very brink of my climax… and quickly drawing himself away. I whimpered between my lips, a heated frustration boiling through me as my pleading eyes fixed upon his jaded ones. My nose was already filled with the musk of sex and it only made me more desperate with every breath, only feeling the bassist’s lips at my neck and hands over my body to propel it onwards.

“Jimmy, please.”

“’Please’ what, my love?”

“Finish me off, for fuck’s sake.” I whined.

“No…” He tsked. “Very dirty words for such a little thing, I don’t think you deserve it.”

I huffed and turned towards Jonesy, only to have Jimmy’s hand take my chin to force my face towards him. At this, the bassist stopped his motions and only touched me lightly with one hand combing through my hair. Now I felt deprived… or depraved. My eyes glared at Jimmy for causing this disruption and I could feel my self-control keeping me from squirming into someone’s touch fading away.

“Jimmy, please.” I begged.

“I think you’re more than ready to take us, angel. You’ve already soaked the sheets there, not to mention how much of you I licked up. What do you think, Y/N?”

“Yes, yes, anything, just please touch me, Jimmy.”

He smiled, a desirous glow in his eyes as he practically crawled on top of me with his unbuttoned silk shirt tickling my warmed skin as it hung down from his slight frame. As his lips met mine, Jimmy distracted me with a harsh nip at my lower lip the moment he pushed into me. My mouth fell agape, tension freezing my body into place at that perfect stretching sensation with just a slight twinge of pain as I adjusted to him. But Jimmy didn’t waste time warming up anymore, keeping up a steady pace before crying out almost too soon and repositioning me under the excuse of “Jonesy feels left out”.

I was flipped onto my stomach and let my mouth roam over the bassist, his hands always guiding me and entangled in my hair. From the other side, my hips were being adjusted up high enough for a kneeling Jimmy behind me with his hands massaging, spreading open, and smacking in preparation. It was just barely approaching the boundary of too much with both of their expert touches and encouraging sounds in my mind. I couldn’t think about anything else, completely drowning in the feelings that set every nerve in my body ablaze.

And it only grew more intense. My eyes flew shut and my mouth hummed at Jimmy’s harshness resuming – pushing all the way into me then almost all the way out, and keeping his hands pulling at the binds over my wrists back to meet his hips with a desperate animosity. The only thing keeping me from crying out was his bandmate’s cock rammed down my soring throat. There was no care for propriety now when the whole room was echoing with shameless, mismatched purrs from the three of us.

“Fuck! Yes, love, take him just like that.” Jimmy commented, punctuating the end of his sentence to match his slowing, smacking pace.

John groan lowly: “So fucking good, Y/N.”

I took him a bit further, just until my nose brushed at the coarse hair trailing down his torso and I could barely breathe, gagging back up for air. He made a guttural sound that I captured against my lips, still tasting the sharp, expensive alcohol on him. Jimmy pulled away completely, sending a tremble through me as the heat that’d built within me seemed to cool almost immediately as we all took a moment to recover before carrying on. Both of them leaned down to kiss and touch me, warming me again in an instant.

“How do you want her, John?” Jimmy began.

I turned to look into his deep blue eyes, a compliant smile on my face as my own thoughts ran wild of what I hoped he would reply with.

He didn’t hesitate nor look away in responding: “Right up here, on my lap.”

It was like he read my mind, so I wasted no time in climbing over him and slowly easing myself all the way down his length. My arms looped over his neck for support and I threw my head back in pleasure, Jimmy taunting me vulgarly from the side. Jonesy’s touch was hard against the skin of my hipbones as he pulled me along to his own tempo, angling me to circle over him in a way that made his mouth fall open silently and head fall back against the wall. The prettiest word was the only coherent thing slipping from between his lips, streams and streams of whispered yes’s motivating me to keep going. Well, with the addition of the occasional blistering smacks from Jimmy on my behind.

“You seem to be enjoying this…” The guitarist trailed off, a suspicion and jealousy in his tone.

“Mm… fuck you, Jim.” I droned out in a foreign deeper voice swathed in a strange boldness and just a little soreness from before.

“I’m about to if you keep mouthing off.”

A chuckle tickled my scratchy throat as I lazily continued the circling motion of my hips, tangling my hands into Jonesy’s ever-perfectly soft hair and drawing him impossibly closer. It was a show just to vex Jimmy, force him to step in and take things literally into his own hands. The perceptive bassist followed along: whispering things in my ear, getting even more handsy, watching my reactions, pretending Jimmy wasn’t standing right there with us. It was easy enough to do since he grew silent and removed his touch from me.

I only received a flash of changed light in John’s eyes as a warning. There was a prod at my backside for a moment, not long enough for me to realize what was happening before Jimmy’s chest pressed against my back and his hands cupped my breasts with his tip pushing past my discomforting constriction, forcing a yelp out of me. My head tumbled back onto his shoulder as though it’d been cut off, my jaw dropping from the sudden, very full and slightly painful sensation.

“Told you, little girl. Now I’ve finally got you speechless.” Jimmy preened, his hand scarfing over my neck delicately.

Breathing deeply through my hollow lungs as I adjusted and let the wave of bursting pleasure wash through (and out of) me. But I was more than ready to keep going, keep chasing after a higher high. As the twinge of pain eased away, I opened my eyes to look up at the cocky, smiling Jimmy and give him a piece of my mind.

“Too bad it only lasted about ten seconds, you dirty, mean, cocksure- shit!”

I cried out as he practically ripped through me, his hips driving further into me and holding position. It was almost too much, just a thin barrier and myself between the bodies of the two men on either side of me. My breaths were erratic, frenzied, despairing as I couldn’t get enough air to both breathe and ease the pain away.

“Hmm? What were you saying, darling?” Jimmy crooned into the shell of my ear.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Jonesy piped up, his hands framing my torso and eyes looking up at me in concern as I remained unresponsive besides my heaving lungs.

“Mhmm…” I breathed out, my voice tight in my throat. “Just getting used to it.”

The bassist looked up at his smirking bandmate, “You’ve done this before, right?”

“What? Fucked?”

“No, had- ”

“Had her from behind like this? Kind of.” Jimmy shrugged against my back.

“No- ”

“Invited someone else and had her take both of us at once? No, not at all.”

“Shit, Jimmy…”

“My girl can handle anything, can’t you, love?”

I nodded, finally taking a steady breath as I was enveloped between the both of them and starting to rock my hips against them. Both of them seemed to have their voices and breaths caught in their throats, hushed away completely just as I’d been before. Now I was sure I was the one experiencing the most pleasure out of all of us – being doted upon from the front and back while almost at the brink of feeling like it was just too much of a bliss washing over me. Besides, I was controlling the pace now even though I was starting to fade out and could see white hot spots blotting my vision.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer…” Jim warned breathily in my ear.

John only gave a concurring weak groan, his lips pressed to my collarbone.

Our bodies rocked against one another, beads of sweat colliding as they rolled down our touching skin. My head was in a daze, feeling like I was floating further and further from the Earth with each movement as the next roaring climax grew within me. It was the impossible heat and mumbles of dirty words. The symphony emitted from between our lips grew louder and faster, ever louder and faster. Each person fighting for themselves to reach that ultimate high.

I was the first to let go, the riptide of a wave crashing over me and wiping me out. My body slumped limply between John and Jimmy. My vision blacked out completely. My inner dam burst from me, dripping down my thighs and soaking through everything in its path. But the sun’s deathly fever didn’t waver until a chorus of gruff ah fuck’s subsided and the heat was deposited into me. My frame was gently lied down over the dirtied sheets, that same white heat pouring down my legs like melted candle wax.

Now the both of them tended to me with great care in their flushed red faces. Through my lidded eyes, I could see their reassuring sleepy smiles and matted hair as looked down at me from their seated positions. Their swollen lips pressing whispers of kisses over my balmy skin, their hands smoothing back stray hairs from my face, their touches lingering over my sensitive body. The restraints around my wrists were clicked off, Jimmy’s fingers massaging the lightly bruised skin. I started to drift away, too sleepy to move or clean myself off with Jimmy’s quiet praise as my lullaby.

“Such a good girl for us, my Y/N.”


	34. power struggle (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> '69 Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "not on the list but like young robert absolute filth 🥺👉👈"

He laid himself bare on that stage, presenting both his explosive voice and flashes of confidence between the shyer feelings he got from having all those people staring at him. It was strange, he usually didn’t feel all that afraid in front of crowds but now there were a lot more eyes focused on the band as their name grew in popularity. This was so much bigger than anything he’d done before with Band of Joy and he felt the pressure of it sometimes, the conflict of wanting to grow into this bold stage persona but then also shed the façade away building up within him.

The question lingered in Robert’s mind during that first little tour the band did, until one night after a concert when he met Y/N. She was just a girl who was in the right place at the right time who wanted to meet the band and was successful in doing so, earning herself an invitation back with Robert. He couldn’t describe exactly what it was, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her as she sweetly smiled and followed him up to his hotel room. Something about her aura being a rosy pink and her pristine white, embroidered little dress following the shape of her body perfectly.

Jimmy had almost snatched her up earlier, the irresistible glow of purity and innocence surrounding her, but he was lucky his bandmate was with her instead. For Y/N’s demureness only lasted until the hotel room door shut behind them and she pushed her host up against it, her hands outstretched over his chest. Robert’s blue eyes were blown wide as he looked down at this deceiving girl. She attached her lips to his neck, nipping and sucking and licking and kissing at the pale skin so it was soon dotted with bruises like paint splatters on a Pollock piece. It was terribly alluring and the singer, obviously being vocal, hummed his pleasure into her ear.

Only when his hands started to linger around her hips and sink a bit lower to grope her ass, she pulled back harshly with a scowl on her pretty face.

“You don’t get to touch me, remember?” She reminded him, having heard about his little inner conflict on the way to the hotel when she quietly asked if he liked being in charge.

“Yes, I remember. Sorry I couldn’t help myself.”

“I don’t want your excuses, you said you didn’t want to be in charge and now you’re breaking my rules. Are you sure you don’t want to take over?” Y/N offered, momentarily breaking her dominance over him.

He shook his head softly, his soft shoulder-length curls brushing his shoulders as his gaze fell to the floor. She smiled and resumed her position, teeth sinking into his neck then lapping at the sore spot with her tongue while her hands teased over the growing bulge. The same stifled moans hummed into Y/N’s ear as she went on, until she could sense his desperation started to heighten and pulled away from Robert.

“Go sit down on the edge of the bed and don’t you dare touch me again.” Y/N instructed.

Robert did as the girl asked, his hands holding up his seated position on either side of his body and in anticipation of clutching at the neatly folded blanket in a few moments. She approached him, moving her legs to either side of him and straddling his lap. Her arms looped around his shoulders loosely as she started to grind herself over his hips, a quiet satisfaction in her heavying breaths with every movement over him. The singer kept his hands glued in place, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sultry pleasure on her face and how she pushed her chest up with her back arched up.

He really wanted to break the rule again, starting to be a lot more frustrated about not being able to just take her how he wanted to and also at himself for telling her to be like this. Grabbing the sheets in his fists wasn’t enough, but he tried to wait it out and thought she’d give him some relief soon. But Y/N only removed herself from his lap, torturing him further from the loss of contact until he saw her kneeling down at his legs. Her hands slowly undid his pants and pulled them down his ankles, throwing them off to the side. A wicked smile came over her face when she saw he hadn’t worn anything underneath them.

“What a pleasant surprise, my little lion. Maybe I won’t tease you too much now.” She remarked, her one hand placed at the top of his thigh while the other reached to the base of his shaft.

Her innocent eyes kept looking up at him as she leaned down to lick a stripe up along his length to the tip and took it into her mouth. But she never gave him the full satisfaction of what she knew he wanted, simply sucking at the tip or kitten licking up the length. The singer started to writhe in his seat and miserably failed to stifle back his moans, whining pleadingly between his lips for the girl to take him all the way down her throat.

Robert didn’t mind being teased but this was too far: he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t make any noise, couldn’t move things further, couldn’t take control at all, and his patience was wearing thin. It was like a rope being pulled tightly and already frayed down to its last threads, just barely holding back from snapping apart. Y/N knew what she was doing and only pulled away with a pop when his hips helplessly bucked towards her mouth.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stood back up to glare at him: “I thought you would follow my directions, pretty boy. Or have you changed your mind on our arrangement?”

Her taunts only made things worse, every part of his body throbbing with the same desire for her and to claim some sort of power back. Lying back and doing nothing, Robert realized, wasn’t something he could do to this extent. He also seemed to remember his bandmate going through a very similar epiphany, although Robert did still have a chance to take back the stage, so to speak, and he was seizing the moment.

“Yes, God I can’t stand it any longer.” He confessed, a red flush over his face from frustration and defeat.

“Aww, you couldn’t handle not being in charge?” She teased.

Robert shifted back onto the bed and unbuttoned his black shirt, flinging it off to the side someplace before beckoning Y/N to join him. She crawled up beside him and slowly started to undress herself as his eyes lingered over her figure in fascination. He especially seemed interested in the ornate pale pink lace pressed up against only her most delectable assets, letting his fingers hook underneath the fabric and pull it away until she lied bare beside him.

But her meeker persona hadn’t entirely returned yet as she pushed him over the edge: “Well, prove that you’re in charge, little lion, or I’ll just have to flip us around…”

His hand cupped over her mouth to shush her, “Such a cheeky troublemaker. That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble, darlin’.”

Now her wide eyes shone with delight and the same glint of deceitful innocence. The hand remained over her mouth as his other one reached down to pry her thighs apart enough to slip his fingers into her. Y/N gasped into his palm, her head arching back into the sheets as he prodded at the sensitive patch within her walls. Replacing the hand over her mouth with his lips, Robert ventured his hand down to rub circles on her clit and capture all of her blissful whines against his mouth.

The tables had turned and now she was the one arching her hips up to him, only to receive condescending chuckles scolding her for being so demanding. Robert could feel her approaching release as she clenched down over his fingers and her teeth nipped at his lower lip. He pulled away just a moment too soon, making Y/N whine pathetically at the nonexistent crash from an orgasm he’d so meanly deprived her of.

“Poor baby… but at least you’re ready for me now.” Robert remarked with a cocky smile.

“Robert!” Y/N hissed, only to have the rest of my words cut off with a simple look.

“Who’s the rulebreaker now?” He jeered, his hand pressing down her abdomen to tease her tormented body more.

With his touch, he took the breath from her lungs and only deprived her of more of it as he plunged into her. Like an unintentional duet, they both gasped and arched against one another and took a moment of pause to adjust to their bliss in exact synchronization. Who was in charge didn’t matter anymore when they were in perfect harmony. Although the singer did maintain his confident, domineering pull over Y/N.

Robert’s hands held her wrists down to the mattress like sturdy cuffs, his knees pinned down her legs, his teeth bit into her skin – he was completely enrapturing her. Their hipbones grinded over each other, leaving matching bruises on their bodies and adding a tinge of pain between their shared, building pleasures. The only thoughts echoing between them was a desperate cry for more, more, more… a never-ending appetite for each other.

Sweat lined their brows, hair stuck to their faces, crescendo-ing moans echoed off the walls with slapping skin being its accompaniment, red heat tinted their faces, pain was masked by the deep dark ecstasy bursting within them like so many crackling fireworks against a night sky. Neither of them wanted to look away or close their eyes, even through the lull of bliss. As their voices began to give out to the tsunami wave of release cresting and about to wash over them, Robert leaned down with a hand caressing Y/N’s face to pull their lips together as they hummed in satisfaction against one another.

The vocalist pulled away slowly, whimpering and groaning without restraint as the waves of aroused pleasure from their tryst ebbed and flowed from them. Like a stormy, wild ocean finally smoothing out its roaring waters as the sky cleared away to let in bright sunlight. He collapsed down beside Y/N, who looked at him through half-lidded eyes with her lips parted as she caught her breath.

His arms wrapped around her warm frame loosely and he nestled his face closer to her own, his shoulder-length golden mane tickling her bruise-dotted skin. Their breaths settled into an easy pace as they lied chest to chest. Y/N’s hands lined his arms to keep them intertwined together, their exhausted bodies slowly drifting off to sleep beside each other.


	35. scars (john bonham x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Bonham x reader  
> TW: self-harm

Request: "Ah so this might be a bit odd so you definitely dont have to do it if you dont feel comfortable!! But because of the warmer weather I've taken to wearing shorts but when I do you can see all of my self harm on my thighs, so could I have something where bonzo comforts the reader within the situation? I really hope that made sense."

Shit. Fuck. Damn it all to hell. Fiery, salty tears stung my eyes and a dull ache pounded at my head at the realization. I felt so foolish getting so upset when the whole problem was rooted in my own actions. No matter how many times anyone else would tell me it wasn’t my fault and I shouldn’t fret so much about it, I just couldn’t take my mind off of the marks on my skin. It was beyond simply accepting that there was something about me that needed to be “fixed” or “healed” because I already knew that. All I wanted was to have some peace.

But here I stood, in front of the mirror wearing shorts for the first time since the heat became too unbearable to wear regular pants outside. I was alone in the room and knew I couldn’t stand here forever when John was waiting for me so we could go tend to a few domestic errands. There was no way to really get out of it and I didn’t want to burden him by taking away my extra set of hands from helping him. I let out a shaky sigh, forcing my eyes off the reflection and quickly wiping any tiny droplets of tears from my face. Putting on a brave face and leaving my thoughts in my head, I went out into the hallway to John.

He greeted me with a cheerful smile, offering to wait for me to have some breakfast before we left but I rejected the offer. Staying back any longer could’ve changed my mind and made me opt out of leaving the house. If John noticed anything was amiss, he didn’t mention it but only took my hand so we’d walk to the car together with the glare of the mid-July sun in our eyes. The air smelled sweetly of drying grasses and fully bloomed wildflowers that sprung up around the house. It would’ve been relaxing if my mind wasn’t reeling with a pounding fear of what people could see, what I couldn’t hide from their prying eyes.

I didn’t hear the song on the radio, nor the rumble of the car engine, nor the birds chirping. I saw the familiar scenery whizzing by but didn’t observe it. I could see the sun was shining and it was making me sweat, but I didn’t feel its warmth. All I had was the tension building up within me. Everything was a reminder of why I had this self-destructive habit in the first place or that the marks were there. And that only sparked more fear-mongering questions: What would people think? What would John have to say? He hadn’t really seen the marks like tiny railroad tracks up my thighs. He came home fairly recently, and my defensiveness pushed away any situation where he could see them.

As helpless and almost pathetic as it sounded, John was really the source of hopeful light amidst all the darkness clouding me. His kind heart was compassionate, and his larger-than-life, jovial nature was brighter than the sun in relieving tension or worry. The homey, comforting scent that lingered in his clothes and in the house – a mixture of bitter cigarettes, musky beer, and something sweetly indescribable – was like a drug that made me feel safe for just a moment. I think I’d be lost and gone if he reacted with judgement.

“Here we are, Y/N. Any requests for the garden or are we buyin’ whatever’s there?” John asked, unbuckling himself after shutting off the rumbling engine.

“Whatever you want, John.” I replied in an unexpectedly timid voice.

“You alright, love?”

I flashed a smile automatically and nodded in confirmation, shamefully feeling my deceit as his piercing green eyes observed me so directly. He permitted my blatant lie once more, coming out of the car and joining my side before we walked inside the supply shop. The shame cloaked my every step and I bowed my heavy head, feeling the pain fall on my shoulders with a wish to eradicate it once and for all if I could just gain the strength to overcome it. My eyes couldn’t bear to look up from the ground, fearing the looks of other people who could easily notice what I’d done to myself.

We stood at a shelf lined with hundreds of different types of seeds, bulbs, roots, and soils. I reminisced a time when we had been here before, my mind closer to ease and my smile genuine. It was hard to get me to choose only a few of the options that sparked my imagination for the garden. But now all I could think of was the burning scraped scars on my legs. John quietly observed the shelves, stepping back to look at me in confusion at the silence that greeted him instead of a normal reply.

“Y/N, somethin’s wrong. What is it?” He asked after glancing down the sides to make sure no one else was around to overhear.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

A blatant deflection, avoiding the problem again like a reflex to avoid judgement.

He shot me a look, completely forgetting the gardening and holding me by the shoulders with that intense jade green stare: “Don’t kid around with me.”

“It’s a bit silly, I guess. I just… well, don’t feel completely comfortable. I haven’t worn shorts like this in a while.” My mouth blurted, luckily still not even close to opening the whole can of worms but only poking a hole through the lid.

“D’ya wanna go back to the car so we’re not just out here with everyone an’ their uncle Bob able to hear? Can you please tell me what’s actually the matter when we’re alone?”

“Okay.”

I’d gotten away with it again, pretending to feel better as my hand collected a random assortment of seed packets from the shelf and handed them off to John. We walked side by side everywhere, my legs at least partially hidden at certain angles by him. The garden and farm supplies were all paid for much too quickly, already walking back to the car with our arms full. We piled it all into the car and sat down, a heavy unanswered question thick in the stifling summer air.

“Well…?” He badgered on.

If it were anyone else, I would’ve been angered by now. But my wall of defense was being chipped away at and John appealed to the part of me that wished to confess the warring hurricane in my mind to someone. It seemed so simple – just tell him what was bothering me. Yet there was always something in the way, the dangerous part of me that kept any confessions locked inside my mind.

I continued with my vague answers, hoping he could connect the dots before a breakdown or something would shatter in me: “…it’s the shorts.”

“Are they the wrong size or somethin’?”

“No, I just don’t really feel, um, comfortable in them and how they look on me…”

“Ya look like a fuckin’ dream, what are you on about?”

I felt the same spark of tears in the corners of my eyes. Why did this always have to be so excruciating? Fuck ripping off a bandage, this was like trying to break apart the concrete binding around a broken bone the day after it was put on – impossible and terribly painful.

“Well, the marks…” I started.

His gaze flickered down for a moment at my legs and it dawned on him. The air had changed, now I sat back in wait of a response with worry plaguing me. Oh God this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything. Maybe it was better if I tried to hold up a more believable façade. But I was always so frustrated and upset that I couldn’t bear it, I was in sway far too much to have even that much of a grip on myself so consistently.

My eyes bravely dared to meet his, seeing them glued to my face as though unsure whether or not he could bear to look at what I’d done to myself. A clear glaze shined over them. Where there’d been a contented smile was now a sullen frown. He wasn’t saying anything, why wasn’t he saying anything? Surely there was a lot in John’s mind at this newfound information and I was being strangled by this silence.

“John, I understand if it bothers you- ”

“Bothers me? That’s not the fuckin’ half of it.” He finally said, my mouth firmly shutting to let me hear every little thing he’d have to say as the sick part of my mind was desperate for it.

I meekly asked: “Are you upset?”

“Yeah I’m bloody upset.” He huffed dryly, pausing for a moment. “Why d’ you do it?”

“I couldn’t explain it if I wanted to. I just didn’t want people to see but it was too hot to wear anything longer.”

“The next time you’re about to do somethin’ like this, you tell me right then an’ there what’s wrong an’ talk to me first. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“But I can’t help it sometimes, it’s like something takes over my mind and I can’t stop it.” My voice was starting to waver.

“I know what you mean.” He sighed. “But we’ll help each other if you want me to, you just can’t hide this kinda thing from me. Is that alright, Y/N?”

There was a deep unspoken understanding between us, sitting in the car at some parking lot outside a garden shop with the smell of musty soil baking in the hot sun. I finally let someone in, actually showed them what I feared worst about myself. And there was a glimpse of the road life John didn’t like to discuss much. We both knew the conversation was far from over, just put on pause while we made it back down the road home and put off the other errands of the day to discuss this.

The trip home was silent beyond one grand remark from my chauffeur: to wear these marks like battle scars. They were not pridefully earned, but courageously worn as an unglamorized badge of what hell I’d gone through. When the way you dress or even going out publicly becomes such a draining mental toll, every single day becomes an inner battle with the worst enemy that any person could encounter beyond status or birth characteristics: their own demons. The marks were there as a symbol of fighting this battle and being able to uncover them was a sign that I was on the verge of victory over them. They would fade into a thing of the past and I would reach that blissful peace of a mind at ease, but only after breaking through the walls of hell.


	36. rivalry (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> tiniest hint towards nsfw

Request: "if req aren’t open, you can ignore this but may i request an imagine where jimmy and the reader are both guitarists with a rivalry, ending with some nsfw 🥴 thank you!!"

For months and months, he’d been hearing about some genius guitarist whenever he was at the studio, with his own band or with others. Some of the sound people would even taunt him and say that he may be dethroned by this person for being the most talented guitar player who stepped foot in the studios. It wasn’t that he thought he was the end-all, be-all of his field but he still felt a potential challenge in the air and it miffed him that he knew nothing about this person.

But it didn’t seem to matter when the band was riding the high of recording through the last song of their second album, especially as the first album had been so successful. As his bandmates and several of the people working at the studio left for the evening, Jimmy stayed on with one of the tech guys to add a guitar overdub to the song. It only took a few tries since he’d already come up with the part and played through it during the takes with everyone else. 

A sense of satisfaction made a small smile appear on his face as he put his instrument away safely. Well, at least until the tech guy quipped that “his competition” was still in the studio and finishing up a recording in just the other room. 

Now, Jimmy wasn’t one for stirring up conflict, but he had to see this guitarist for himself and speed-walked out to catch them before they could leave. He pressed his ear to the thick door blocking the studio room from the hallway and made sure he wasn’t interrupting a recording before cautiously walking inside the room. And there was his rival, sitting on a stool in front of a standup mic, leaning over an acoustic 12-string. They seemed a lot less threatening in their plain clothes and apparently demure demeanor as their gaze looked up from the strings to the intruder.

A friendly smile came across their face, “Hi.”

“Hello.” Jimmy greeted, definitely at a loss for any other words.

“You’re here quite late.”

“Yeah, I’m the only one still in the studio… just finished doing overdubs.”

“Nice… so, may I ask what you’re doing here? Not to be rude, but I didn’t think anyone else was here and I’m not sure why someone like you would just… burst in here like you did.”

Jimmy realize they were right and tried to backtrack a bit: “Well I’ve heard a lot about you and one of the guys told me you were still in the studio so I wanted to meet you.”

“Ah… okay.” They nodded slowly, still not quite understanding.

“Actually if I’m being honest, I only know that you’re a bloody good guitar player and no one will let me hear the end of it. I don’t even know your name.” He chuckled shyly.

“It’s Y/N. And thank you? I’m not sure how to take that remark but I guess it must be a high honor coming from the brilliant man behind ‘She Just Satisfies’.”

A mischievous and knowing sparkle was in Y/N’s eyes as they moved off their stool to place the recording headphones out of the way. Jimmy was slack jawed for a moment at the last part of the comment, half-angry at the mention of the embarrassing single and half-intrigued by this guitarist even more. As their eyes met again and Y/N approached him, the 12-string in hand, Jimmy wanted to test out the guitarist.

“You’ve got quite a mouth, love. Might have to see if you’ve got anything behind all that talk.” He taunted.

Y/N cocked their head to play along, “In what sense? Shall I keep the guitar out or do you have ulterior motives?”

Oh, Jimmy was having fun now. It seems he’d found a worthy opponent in more than one regard and was hoping for the interaction to continue down this path. His new acquaintance seemed unfazed, placing down the guitar gently on the floor and patiently waiting for a response as they sat back down on the stool. Jimmy approached them, placing a hand up their mid-thigh and running his hand along the seam of the jeans Y/N was wearing.

“I think you should let your fingers rest a bit since it’s so late. Maybe you’ll have to play for me in the morning.” He suggested.

Y/N didn’t react as his hand pressed roughly along the in-seam, but instead reached out a hand over the obvious tent at their eye-level to return the favor. “Now we’re even, what now?”

If the compliant lovers pleased him, then the challenge and likeness that this rival posed him drove him mad in the best possible way. Had Jonesy been around for their exchange, he certainly would have made a “fucking yourself” joke that may have had a little truth to it. Despite basically being strangers, there was something to be said for Y/N knowing their opponent well enough to make Jimmy tick so effortlessly. He wanted to get Y/N to break for him, fall apart and lose that ice-cold composure only for him.

“Depends on what you want.” He answered, trying to keep his voice steady as the hand over his pants squeezed at his length gently. “No one else is around to hear you, or you can be my guest for the night and come home with me.”

“Or…” Y/N countered. “I can just go home and leave you worked up like this.”

He clicked his tongue, “That’s just cruel.”

“You’ve got a functioning hand, don’t you? And besides, I’m only mocking you.”

“In what sense?” He mumbled.

The rival guitarist got up, moving their thigh right up from under Jimmy’s hand as well as removing their own hand from him, and stretching their tired frame after sitting around the studio practically all day. A breath was caught in his lungs at the loss of the contact he had been enjoying and staring wide-eyed at this wonderfully vexing musician. Y/N sighed casually, a twinge of a satisfied smile over their lips after noticing Jimmy’s expression.

“Well, Mr. Page, are you just gonna stand there all night?”

His brows furrowed in slight bewilderment.

Y/N elaborated: “As much as I dream about making the whole studio aware of what may go on tonight, am I going home alone or joining you on your way?”

Jimmy smiled victoriously, using an arm to pull his rival closer by the hip and pressing a chaste but deep kiss on their lips. Now the both of them were smiling and they came to an accord of going back to Jimmy’s close-by riverside home. Y/N packed the 12-string, bringing it along to make good on the prospect of playing the guitar in the morning. As they exited the studio together, Jimmy led the way with an arm loosely around his guest’s hips. Feeling bold enough to taunt him again, Y/N mocked a reciprocal action and swatted his ass.

He stopped in his tracks and pulled Y/N closer so he could easily grumble a quick warning to them: “You’re going to regret that, darling.”

A flush of heat spread through Y/N’s body as their face remained neutral and Jimmy pulled them along a moment later as though nothing had happened. Those tech guys had been right, he was glad to have met this guitarist and he hadn’t even heard their playing.


	37. twin flames (john paul jones x male!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Paul Jones x male!reader  
> nsfw

Request: "Could you PLEASE write an nsfw imagine with Jonesy x male reader? I love Jonesy so much and i always have such a hard time finding nsfw fics with him and a male. Im giving you complete control over details of the situation i just want it to be sexy, vulgar, and as detailed as possible, thankyou so much!"

The door shut and I turned to greet Jonesy after his long day of discussing old licensing issues with Jimmy and Robert, but the words were stuck in my throat the moment I saw his face. Frustration radiated off of him. Naturally having a quiet demeanor, John wouldn’t verbalize his anger but instead there was something in his walk, his seemingly expressionless face, his toneless “hi love” that told me all I needed to know about how the day went. But I didn’t want to confront him about it yet, giving me some time to gauge his exact mood. 

We sat down and ate dinner together in the dull kitchen lighting, the night sky dark outside. A subtle rain tapped at the windows as the only sound to accompany the clink of silverware on the plates. The tension in the air seemed to clear, or maybe I was just more used to it. Just as dinner came to a close, he finally asked me how my day went and made more small talk. I answered neutrally while I tended to the dishes in hopes that he’d lead on the conversation at some point. 

But I grew tired of the nonchalant air, “John… what happened at the offices?”

“Nothing important, it’s fine.”

I shot him a look, his blue eyes still looking towards me stoically.

“Y/N, there’s nothing to discuss – it was all sorted out and everything always goes the same way.”

“Alright, Jonesy, whatever you say. I just don’t want you to be upset when you have a voice in all of this business.” 

“I know.” 

“You have to tell them if something bothers you, you’re as much a part of Zeppelin as they are.”

“I know.” A tiny tick of irritation crept into his voice.

“Then why are you always the one who comes home with your shoulders slumped over and in a sour mood?”

“That’s enough of that.” He declared with finality.

“I’m sorry, John, I just hate seeing you so mad about- ”

He forced out an anguished breath and with it shed his clearly vexed countenance, “Leave it alone.”

With a hand latched over my back, he pulled me away from the kitchen and down the hallway. My pulse beat madly in my chest in surprise and I felt my heart jump up into my throat. The levelheadedness was thrown out the window but his wrath that took place behind closed doors would be torturously enjoyable. Damn I loved it when he flipped a switch like this. 

I stumbled along with his fiery pace until he shoved me through the doorway to the bedroom, my legs knocking into the wooden frame. A thick heat swirled up from my abdomen, like earth-crackling magma rising through my body and overtaking it with desire. John had a cool, aloof power that he claimed without needing to use a single word – only a stony look. I sank down to my knees at his feet and looked up at John for his explicit permission to do anything else.

His hand cradled the side of my face and guided me closer until my cheek pressed against the rough fabric of his dark jeans. John’s bulge was right under my lips and I motioned my mouth over him, earning a sharp humming sigh of approval from him. I wanted to pull the belt and pants right off, tear through them if my hands couldn’t undo them fast enough. He was driving me out of my mind with only the language of his gestures and very few words. It was like he could read my mind.

“Let me lie down first.” He demanded in a stony, serious tone as he shifted away from me.

I rose from the floor and couldn’t help my eyes lingering over him, dressed so sleekly in dark perfectly fitted clothes. John reclined over the smoothly made sheets and called me up to him with an air of nonchalance. The waiting and control made me impatient but I stayed collected for the time being. I kneeled cautiously between his legs and looked to him.

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I think I’ll show you.” I suggested, my hands already reaching to his dimly shining leather belt and undoing the buckle.

He made no remark to stop me, so I continued. It was like opening up the neatly put-together wrapping of a gift, tearing it to shreds and tossing it aside to find something much better underneath it all. But I had to control the desire to fall into a frenzy, pulling aside anything getting in the way of what I wanted to reach and my hands practically shaking as they found their place over John’s bared hips. There was no thought in my mind besides to take him into my mouth then and there, almost instinctually leaning down only to be halted.

“No, your mouth’s already gotten you into enough trouble.” He commanded.

“But John- ”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, love.” 

I shut my mouth instantly. No mouth… but hands certainly weren’t off the table and I just needed to touch him or do anything to quell this maddening desire in me that John only fanned into a damn bonfire. I kept myself leaning down, my one hand remaining firm to keep balanced while the other wrapped over the base of his shaft. My eyes glanced up at him for a moment and saw just the hint of a smile on his face, lips parting with my continued motions as a silent moan.

The pace was slow, torturously slow just to provoke him and let him feel how restless I was already. My thumb wiped the bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip, my fist full rose up and pushed down as if in slow motion, my fingertips just barely dug into his skin. My eyes studied him: the few streaks of silver in his brown hair, the pleasurably anguished swoop of his brows, the curve of his nose, the pink hue spreading over his cheeks, the raspberry colored hue of his chapped, parted lips. A hum of irritation already droned in the base of his throat and a warning flashed in his deep blue eyes when I only slowed my pace.

“Might want to remember who decides whether or not to fuck you.” John muttered through gritted teeth.

“Then do it already, honey.” I taunted.

“My, my… what’s brought on this mean streak? Maybe I should leave you high and dry, seems to be more suitable for getting you to listen.”

“C’mon John, why else would you have brought us in here?”

It was becoming a battle – me wanting him to just get on with it while he wanted to draw things out for me until the breaking point. I’d usually follow his directions but this wasn’t a fight I wanted to lose, my itching discomfort only getting worse with every passing moment, threat, glance, and humming moan. The resolve and impatience stood firm against John’s cool demeanor, melting it away the second he caved.

“Fine, since you were only acting with my best interests in mind. Undress and lie back here.” He motioned towards the pillows he’d been leaning against, now trading positions with me.

I sat up in my new reclined posture, lying back against the cushioning and pulling off my clothes haphazardly as per his request. His hand reached for mine when I threw my shirt to the side with finality and kissed over my knuckles, a momentary break from the cool severity of the scene. But the soft gesture didn’t last long, John’s hands sliding along my sides down to my hips and parting my thighs as far as he could. His fingertips dug into my skin, trailing further and further up my leg until his touch palmed me.

“Since you’re so terribly impatient, Y/N…” 

He drew his hips up to grind over my own, leaning down with one hand guiding the shaft of his cock into me and the other hand stroking me languidly. A breath was caught in my throat and I threw my head back against the pillows, the thick heat of a desert swirling through my lungs. I tried to hold back the impulse to jerk my hips up or reach down to stroke myself harder and relieve this perfect torture, almost wanting frenzied animosity rather than this careful, time-stretching pace. 

“F-Fuck! Harder John, please!” I whined.

“Careful what you ask for, Y/N.” He replied through labored breaths.

I felt him push harder and faster, making me feel like my heart was about to stop as the heat only grew heavier. Our gasping lips were a mere centimeter apart, I could feel his moans like whispers against my mouth and reached up to pull him closer into a humming kiss. My body slumped, only able to meet his own thrusts and be pushed into the bed with each one. The knot in my abdomen and between my legs tightened, almost losing myself in the blissful ecstasy. 

John seemed to feel it too, the usual steadiness of his voice falling away uncontrollably; he only grew louder and louder with each of the primal moans growling in his throat. Bruises spotted my hips where John had held me and my lips felt swollen from the countless harsh, teeth-grazing kisses we shared. I placed my palm against his lower abdomen over the bristled patch of hair, feeling his pace begin to slow with an approaching release.

“Shit love, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He muttered, his head lolling down so his velvet lips traced over my ear, “I’m gonna cum inside you.”

“Fuck!” I cried, his words making me impossibly more turned on and bringing me closer to the edge. “Please John, please I’m so close…”

That was enough to send him into that uncontrolled, wild pace and whimper into my ear with a desperation I’d never heard from him before. He called my name endlessly between curses, driving me closer and closer to release. My drooping gaze looked to John’s blissed out face – eyelids shut lightly, pretty pink lips parted, a red flush on his cheeks, a glowing sheen over his body – and I felt the first white hot spurts of his cum into me. My body was so close to giving out, but I kept trying to chase that high as he pulled out and the heat dripped down onto the sheets.

John regained a little composure and gave me his final instruction: “Let go, Y/N. Let go for me, honey.” 

I whimpered, crying out loudly as his fist encircled my shaft, pumping up and down my length just to send me over the edge even faster. Holy shit. My breaths and heartbeat couldn’t keep up with how badly my mind and heart was racing, cries falling from between my lips without a second thought. John kissed my forehead reassuringly as I felt that familiar pulse of heat shoot through me, the knots in me being fraying and tearing apart. The heat splattered over my stomach and John’s hand finally slowed its frantic speed.  
“Oh my God, John…” I muttered, my eyes shut tightly as I was finally drained and fell apart over the pillows.

“You did so well for me, love.” He kissed my sweaty forehead repeatedly between praises. “So good, Y/N. Catch your breath and we’ll clean you up, yeah?” 

I nodded softly, my lungs heaving in my chest and low moans still growling in the base of my throat. My hands caressed his smiling face gently, looking up at John with a satisfied awe and wishing I had the strength to sit up and kiss him right there. Even with little spats, he was ever composed and never truly angry. He lied beside me for a while, both of us breathless and not needing any words to express the twin thoughts in our minds.


	38. green-eyed monster (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x fem!reader   
> nsfw

Request: "Hey can I request one with Jimmy where he’s jealous of Robert so he punishes you? Like hella kinky but also sweet lol"

Oh I knew I had him hooked and right where I wanted him within less than fifteen minutes after the boys came back into the dressing room. They all had half-tired smiles on their faces, having played quite the show for the last few hours yet still anticipating the night ahead. Jimmy was the last to come back in as he was busy making sure all of his guitars were properly cared for and had a question for Peter. That only gave his perpetually-lopsided-smiling bandmate a chance to come up to me before he did.

Sure Robert knew that Jimmy and I had spent some time together but maybe he thought that there was still some leeway for him to come into the picture. I knew the game with all these rock star guys and figured, why not? After all, this could result in either Jimmy intruding to get back my attention or Robert stealing me away for a night. Frankly it didn’t seem like there was a negative consequence.

I’d come dressed to impress, but only once I took my cropped and skirted beige trench coat off. Underneath was quite the ensemble of black lace that pushed up or pressed up my body in just the most complimentary (and thank God, comfortable) way. So right when Jimmy came back to the dressing room to see Robert chatting me up, there was almost a chill that rushed through the air from his ice-cold glare. I hadn’t noticed that some skin was peeking up above the ends of the tights I was wearing, revealing black garters to everyone in the room. I also hadn’t noticed how the top part of the coat started slipping off and now revealed a little more than just the ornate trim of the extremely low-cut push-up bra underneath it. 

The banter between us had also been a bit beyond the boundary of “friendly” and there was a warm flush swathed over my face to make that fact far more obvious to an onlooker. I pretended not to notice Jimmy’s appearance, knowing it would ruin my plan of either going back with his bandmate or getting him absolutely jealous. Well I could only pretend to be ignorant for so long as I felt the hem of the coat being yanked down lower to hide the garters on my legs and a possessive arm roped around my waist. Jimmy was practically steaming at his ears, a gravely serious look over his face while he looked between me and Robert with anger.

“What’s wrong, Jim? Ya look like I just stepped on your puppy’s tail ‘r like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” Robert teased.

The joke had the effect of prodding a hungry bear with a stick, as Jimmy responded coldly with a simple “Fuck off.”

Robert held his hands up in surrender and backed off from me, reaching a hand to my face to give me a quick kiss on the cheek before parting. I couldn’t help smiling, knowing that my plan was working and also because Robert’s curls were tickling my skin. That drove Jimmy even further up the wall. His arm tightened around my waist so we were quite literally connected by the hip and no one else would dare come between us.

It also granted him the ability to lean over easily and growl lowly into my ear: “I hope you had your fun with him because I’m not going to be nice to you. Now come back with me to the car, don’t even try to say anything, and follow my orders or things will only get worse for you.”

I nodded silently, a grin lingering over my lips as I followed behind Jimmy to the car and I waved goodbye to all the music crew still bustling around the backstage area. His hand was still latched onto my hip like a deadly snake squeezing me tighter and tighter, taking my breath with every passing second. He opened the car door for me and pushed me into the seat, seating himself opposite me in the backseat. His touch was removed from me now, entirely opposing the stifling grasp he had on me earlier. Now I was desperate for it.

He followed suit as we walked through the hotel up to his room, only letting me closely follow behind him up to the luxurious room. Tingles shot up through my veins and my heartbeat hammered in my chest as Jimmy unlocked the door, I was buzzing for what was to come. Two paces inside and he goes to close the door behind me. Four paces forward and he commands that I go wait for him on the bed, leaving my coat on. Another twenty or so paces and I was seated at the edge with my heel-clad feet dangling a mere inch off the floor awaiting the fiery Jimmy to return.

Hearing his rummaging through the luggage that I saw in the hallway, my pulse quickened and I pressed my legs together for some form of friction to relieve myself from the arousal of my wild mind’s raunchiest fantasies. Jimmy’s footsteps approached me, a collection of things in his one hand that I couldn’t entirely distinguish. The anger was still coming off him in waves and piercing through me with the cold glare in his eyes. I kept quiet but looked towards what he was holding, earning the tiniest quirk of his pink lips.   
He put his tools down on the floor momentarily before shifting all of his attention to me and finally making a confrontation: “What exactly were you thinking back there, Y/N? You wanted Percy to fuck you?”

“Well- ”

“No, you don’t get to answer and I don’t want to hear your excuses. Coming in there like that, on display for everyone when you’re all mine, trying to make me jealous…” He spat, grabbing and pulling at the coat that had ridden up to the tops of my thighs like an impatient child ripping open the giftwrap of their birthday presents.

Jimmy finally flung it off to the side without a second glance. His shining eyes took a moment to scan over the sight before him and there was a pause in his anger, a different kind of fire burning from within him now. This heated fire combined with the jealous ferocity and made him push me down roughly so I fell back to the center of the bed, the air knocked out of my lungs in surprise. Jimmy immediately took his place at my legs, adjusting my position however he pleased with his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs. He brushed over my clothed core once, just to make me squirm, smiling sadistically at the reaction he got from me. 

“I know what you want from me, but you’re gonna have to earn it or I’ll just leave you like this.” He explained coldly, kneeling down to pick up a few things from the floor.

As he stood back up, he held only one of his patterned scarves in hand and approached me to tie my wrists together tightly enough that I couldn’t move them around at all. Although this was plenty binding to restrain my ability to move, it seemed pretty tame for Jimmy so I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. At least until I saw him lean down to grab something else from his arsenal. A cold feeling of metal grazed over my ankles and I heard something click into place. It was like a light weight now pulled my legs down and I couldn’t move them from their current distance – a spreader bar.

“See how nice I’m being to you? Keeping you spread open so I don’t punish you for moving around. What do you say, Y/N?” Jimmy spoke as he stood back up where I could see him from my lying position.

“Thank you, Jimmy, thank you!” I stuttered out as quickly as I could manage to move my mouth.

“Good girl, but you still haven’t paid for pissing me off and trying to go off with fucking Percy, of all people.”

I kept silent and observed him wide-eyed when he used a finger to hook the edge of my panties, pulling them down to my ankles. His dark curls framed his face austerely, a gravely serious expression on his youthful, snow-white face and in his dark eyes. His rosy lips, however, made me tick. Whenever I saw them, I wanted nothing more than to lean up and kiss them, to taste the cigarettes from earlier in the night then breathe in the strong perfume of shampoo that always lingered in his hair. 

But Jimmy had me almost immobile and kept his distance for now, something I couldn’t quite see in his hands about to be applied to my body. He noticed my gaze trailing down to his hands and raised them up to show me what he was holding. It was one of his leather whips that he always brought along, this one with a long brush of fringe that I knew would only add to the usual stinging sensation. Even despite that fact, I was starting to squirm over the sheets to just get him to touch me in any way.

“Now, darling, you be good and don’t fucking move.” 

He flicked his wrist around to test the waters with a light hit over my thighs, my muscles tensing to follow through his orders. I bit my lip to keep from making any noise and pleadingly looked up at a darkly pleased Dark Lord. With every crack of the whip that felt like tiny embers burning into my skin, my resolve started to crumble. Jimmy noticed my louder whimpers and moved the whip over my core.

Daring to brush the whip over my most sensitive skin when I was already desperate, my thighs were numb from the stinging pain and I felt like my whole body was full of jagged streaks of electricity. He only smacked it once. But he only took it easy on me because he was satisfied with the involuntary jerk of my hips and mewling moan from within my throat after one hit. I was already so close to soaking the sheets anyways, so I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he stopped right then. 

“Are you ever gonna show up backstage looking like that again?” Jimmy asked, his countenance aloof and cold as his hand trailed the fringe of the whip over the thin lace of my bra.

“No, Jimmy I promise I won’t.” 

“Are you gonna flirt with anyone else?” He moved it lower down over my torso.

“No!”

His brow quirked, circling the ends of the whip over my clit: “And my bandmates?” 

“No, Jimmy!”

He dropped the whip now and replaced it with his rough fingertips, “Who do you belong to, love?”

“You, Jimmy, only you!” I cried out, salty tears already stinging at my eyes and my voice weakening. “P-Please just fuck me already.”

A cheeky smile curved his lips as he leaned down closer to me, “Poor baby… practically itching for me. But I have one more question for you.”

He slipped a finger into me, cutting off my sentence before I could respond.

“Who’s my good girl, who looks so fucking gorgeous in this pretty little thing she wore just for me?” Jimmy asked, sliding a hand to touch the lacy fabric on my body.

“M-Me.”

“That’s right, Y/N, I’m very lucky to have you all to myself.” 

Jimmy kissed me deeply, my head pressing into the bed and my body leaning up against his. I felt like I was floating from how buzzed my mind felt and how my heart felt like it was dissolving in my chest. Jimmy was the only person I’d ever met who could be so in touch with how I felt, even without me saying a single word, and it only made it that much easier for him to get me to soak the sheets more than I thought was possible.


	39. summer morning (robert plant x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silver fox!Rovert Plant x reader  
> hint of nsfw at the end

Even at nine in the morning, the Texas late-summer heat was already like a warm blanket over everything, the birds chirping loudly as though already complaining about it. I got up from bed, had a light breakfast, changed into a swimsuit, grabbed a small speaker to play music, and dove into the bright turquoise pool in the backyard. All I could feel was the sensation of cool water over my whole body, soaking my hair so it stuck to my skin and keeping my skin cool so there wasn’t a sheen of sweat over me. My tense muscles finally relaxed as I floated on my back with just my face above the surface.

It was a perfect summer ambience as I paddled along, swimming random laps around the pool. I hummed and quietly sang along to the playlist I made earlier as it shuffled from the Kinks’ Sunny Afternoon to Joni Mitchell’s California to Nina Simone’s version of Revolution to Zeppelin’s own Down by the Seaside. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, or at least it was just my hair slowly fanning out like a halo around my head. Lazily floating around made the rest of the world seem far away and out of mind, worries dissolving into the water. 

The smooth ripples in the water glittered in the sunshine like a sparkling gem and all the bright blue was splotched with pale pink petals from the tall, flowering shrubs fencing the pool from outside view. I shut my eyes lightly and just drifted along with the motions of the water with my hands slowly propelling me along. My moment of peace was interrupted by a familiar, cheerful voice calling at me from the backdoor. 

“Good morning my lovely siren.” 

I popped my head right back over the water, seeing a smiling Robert coming closer to the edge of the pool and his pretty blue eyes looking down on me. His silvery curls were pulled up into a bun, disguising any hint of mussed hair from last night’s activities. He knelt down at the side of the pool, placing a hand at the side of my head through my wet, stringy hair. My arms rested on the concrete lip of the pool and I lifted myself up towards him, my legs still submerged in the water.

“Good morning to you too, are you wearing that pirate shirt on purpose or was that just a coincidence?” I smiled, playing with the hem of it. 

He glanced down at the black shirt with the skull and crossbones on it. “Ah, a little bit of both I presume. But I’d happily be led astray by you an’ face my fate for you.”

“You’re a very smooth talker, Robert, but I’m not sure if I’d happily let you capture and exploit me for my powers through torture, being a siren and all.” I commented, going along with his silly narrative.

“Fair enough.” He nodded.

I curled a finger round his silver chained necklace, drawing him closer to my face so I could kiss him. His one hand pressed against the side of my wet face and the other against my back. But as I pulled myself up higher to the surface, his touch lingered lower down towards my tailbone. In response, I hastily pulled in the arm that’d been supporting me above the surface and sank down into the rippling water right out from his touch, splashing down below the surface to swim away.

My head came back over the surface just so I could harass him a bit: “You rowdy pirate, you’ve got to catch me first if you want to be so brash.” 

“Is that so?” He cocked his head with a smile, his hands already slipping the shirt off his torso and the pants down his legs before diving in after me. 

I squealed, diving under the water and swimming away from him. The excitement of being chased was pulsing adrenaline through my veins, flinging around my arms and legs in the pool as quickly as possible hoping that I could escape. The scent of chlorine filled my nose as I swam onward in an energetic frenzy. My efforts, unfortunately, only made me splash water around and Robert easily caught up with me.

His hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him, positioning me to stand before him in the shallower end of the pool. A jolt went through my whole body when I felt his strong grip on me and I giggled as he pulled me up to the surface. Before I could wipe away the hair stuck to my face or otherwise react, his arms tightened around me and his lips captured mine. I surrendered to the man, accepting my defeat and his victory.

This time, Robert’s lingering hands made it down to my rear without my resistance and grasped at my body. Our chests pressed together, both of us dripping beads of water back down into the pool and Robert’s hair now set loose over his shoulders. My own hands came to rest on his hipbone and teased down his abdomen where he would’ve been clothed, had he worn swim trunks… or underwear for that matter.

He pulled back at my brash actions, “Do I detect ya wanna try somethin’ new, my dear siren?”

“In the water?”

“In the water.” He affirmed, his fingers teasing at the edges of my swimsuit.

“You’re a cad, Robert.” I smiled and shook my head, leaning down to remove it from my water-slicked body.

“And you’re a divine tease, Y/N.” He retorted, apparently enjoying the view before him as his eyes and hands freely roamed over my bare form as a warm-up for what was to come.


	40. making love headcanons (led zeppelin x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Led Zeppelin x reader  
> nsfw for sure

Request: "Hello, I have a request, (if you're not taking any, no worries). I was wondering what your headcanon would be regarding how the Zeppelin boys would make love to their lover."

Jimmy Page  
Okay just gonna put this out there: I think he’d probably be the best between the four of them, please do not attack me  
Very good at reading body language and can sense what you want/are okay with, but still asks to make sure and is reeeeeaaallllllllllllyyyy good at dirty talking  
To paraphrase the man himself—sometimes you want it soft and tender, other times you want it hard and rough  
Obviously open to experimenting and makes sure to give you as much pleasure as possible  
Definitely loves to be in charge so you know better than to seriously push him around  
But then again, it’s fun to be a little bratty and piss him off enough to have him shove you up against the nearest wall with fiery eyes  
“Shut that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll put it to work” is his last warning, so you make just one more remark  
He spews the most vulgar threats at you and ties your hands behind your back then forces you down to your knees so you’re eye-level with the zipper that looks like it’s about to burst  
Fucks your throat mercilessly until you gag with saliva dripping down your chin then pulls you back up to your feet by the hair  
Jimmy shoves you face-down onto the bed so your vision is blocked and yanks off any clothes from your waist down, his hands grasping at your ass  
You’re left alone for a moment with your hands resting behind your back, unexpectedly feeling a little abandoned by him… until you feel a crackling pain on your ass and realize he was just going through his collection of disciplinary paraphernalia   
He continues as you lose count and just feel numbed with your face pressed against the sheets  
Only when your legs are trembling does he begin to tease himself into you… very slowly  
His hands are on you at all times while he fucks into you, using them to pull you up onto your knees so he can smack your ass easier and tease you further with his calloused fingertips  
Your thighs are shaking badly as his hands worked you in the perfect way, moans helplessly slurring from your mouth with your release  
He reminds you breathlessly of how bratty you’d been before pulling out, foreboding that he wasn’t finished with his punishments  
Flipping you down onto your back, Jimmy stroked himself with the prettiest orgasmic look on his face until my torso was painted with spurts of his cum

John Bonham  
Absolutely no shame in being too loud, too brash, too unexpected, or anything else together  
Whatever both of you did, there was always an intrinsic love and infatuation in everything  
You would take long drives together occasionally, Bonzo stopping in fairly empty areas like rural fields and go at it in the backseat until all the windows were fogged up  
His spontaneity lent him a little bit of an adventurous spirit so sometimes he would indulge in doing it even more publicly than the car  
The current list was about four times in unlocked backstage rooms, twice while sitting on his lap on the sofa of the Starship, once in the limo, seven times in the studio, once in a vacant street at night behind a concert hall, and three times at a bandmate’s house  
Today he wanted to try something else, which you excitedly agreed to given the incomparable excitement from the previous eighteen times  
He started by driving out a while down unfamiliar rural roads that cut through farmland, building up your restlessness and desire for him as he drove with that handsome, focused expression on his face  
The ride unexpectedly ended out in the middle of nowhere and he stepped out after shutting off the ignition, approaching your door to let you out in a gentlemanly manner  
With an outstretched hand, he led you into a tall field of some grassy field until you were completely obscured from sight and he trampled down a little clearing  
John tossed a thick blanket from his shoulder on the flattened ground then beckoned you closer  
Both of you lied down together, looking up at the blue sky for a while before Bonzo’s teasing hands grasped at you and started pulling the hem of your shirt up your torso  
You turned to him, following his example, and sliding clothes down your bodies just enough to take the challenge of this public setting   
The drummer offered an explanation before I could bother to make a comment: “Y’know what they say – save a horse…”  
So John pulled you over his hips with strong hands controlling the pace the minute I slowly adjusted himself into you and arched your back in the contrasting painful pleasure  
“Be as loud as you fuckin’ want, love, we’re out in the middle of a damn field.” He kept reassuring between groans and his hips driving up into you  
Part of you was weakening with your impending climax and exhaustion from riding him so wildly, still propelling yourself onwards to chase the high   
You both crashed down from waves of pleasure with loud moans that echoed off the faraway, rolling hills that bordered the valley farmland – a new setting of a public fuck added to the list

John Paul Jones  
I will never shut up about how pretty Jonesy is so it would be nearly impossible to look away from him, no matter how blissed out you are  
He seems really sweet, but he also oozes confidence… maybe something like Jimmy where he’s got range and can flip between being soft or rough (just maybe not as kinky)  
Still not super talkative so you both try pushing each other to make the raunchiest, loudest sounds against each other’s lips and bodies   
It’s almost like a race or competition to make the other lose themselves in ecstasy   
His hands tangle and pull on your hair, grasp at your ass, grope between your legs  
You nip at his neck, lightly scratch at his back under his shirt, palm him over his pants  
He goes so far as to slip his fingers into your underwear to make you feel weak in the knees and grab onto his shoulders so you wouldn’t falter to the floor  
Things only escalate as layers of clothes come off and John shoves you down onto the bed before climbing over you  
In the heat of your shared desperations, John kisses you roughly and thrusts into you without hesitation  
“I love it when your eyes roll back in your head like that, Y/N. Such a good angel for me.”  
John’s hands softly caressed my face and his countenance glowed with adoration, while he slammed into me hard enough to bruise as our skin smacked against one another  
I felt like I was almost hyperventilating as I kissed him and moaned into his mouth at his thrusting, trying to stave off release to match John’s stamina…  
…only to dissolve into the white-hot ecstasy that shot through my body like a streak of lightning and let out a satisfied sigh  
Jonesy smiled but his hand at my face lingered down to my throat, “So impatient, darling, and I’m nowhere near done with you.”  
He pursued his promise, using his nimble musician fingers along with his thrusts and swooning kisses to bring you back to the peak of pleasure again just as he finally came close to his own release   
You can feel yourself slipping away into bliss, each atom in your body buzzing with the feeling of sticky heat shooting up into you and seeping out as a spent John pulled away to lie beside you  
The room felt hot and stifling, like a thousand candles surrounded the bed, as your bodies lied beside each other with heaving chests… Jonesy quietly breathing out a promise of more to you

Robert Plant  
Switches between big bad wolf (or lion in this case) and gentle teddy bear within half a second depending on how he perceives the mood to be shifting  
Very open about doing things that please you and experimenting in that sense  
Also uses pet names/nicknames often because they’re cute and make you smile just a little bit every time he does it  
As a vocalist it may be a bit redundant to point out that Robert in general is fairly vocal and entirely unashamed about it with anyone who might have something sour to say about it  
There’s something simple and down-to-earth about how captivating he is, no bells or whistles needed  
He’ll find you relaxing at home doing something like walking the grounds with Strider or reading in the living room or taking a soothing bath and instantly sweep away all your attention to him  
Sometimes literally lifting you up from wherever, distracting you perfectly with a passionate kiss, and only putting you down to lie over the bedsheets as his eyes roamed over you  
“Always so beautiful, my dear Y/N. But I think we can somehow make this even better, undress to impress as they say, yes?”  
You can’t help but laugh a little at his incorrigibility that soon just turns into dirty statements that cause a heatwave through your whole body and restless, flickering flame desire  
He turns a bit cockier than normal, particularly about his skills as he gets down between your legs in your reclining position and successfully elicits a raucous symphony of half-phrases cut off by moans from your lips  
But he’s just as restless as you, quickly moving on to bring himself just a little relief from not being inside you yet moving slowly to not overwhelm you  
Time seems to stop in that moment where he slips into you, groans and encouragement and your name falling from his mouth like quiet prayers  
You have to ask him to go faster or harder, threatening that you wouldn’t last at all should he keep up the torment and earning a cocky grin in return as he obeyed your request  
He breathlessly reminds you with warm sweat dripping down his body slowly: “God, you feel so perfect… fuck darlin’.”   
Worships you in that glowing, blissed out state since it makes him all the more turned on  
Despite naturally being loud, Robert can’t help but lose himself once your hands thread through his shining, golden curls and pull at them as you start feeling a bubbling impending climax  
It’s almost like he’s perfectly in-tune with you and his moans are higher, breathier in your ear just as you start to feel the tightly-coiled pleasure burst into release just as he fills you with a kiss pressed into your lips


	41. translator (jimmy page & robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page & Robert Plant x fem!reader who's a translator  
> hints towards nsfw, of course  
> inspired by those '98 milan gifs

My stomach was doing flips, my heart was pounding in my chest, my whole body felt shaky and I was only just walking back into the backstage area… before there had even been a concert. I was supposed to be relatively professional, as my job here was to be a translator for the pre-show interview even though part of the reason I was sent was because I loved the musicians they were interviewing and did nothing to hide it. This job would probably be my most nerve-wracking task in my entire life.

The furniture back in the main area was sparse, just a few black couches here and there so I figured we’d be standing. A camera crew and interviewer were all set up, now anxiously awaiting their interviewees. I spent my extra time fixing my hair into place and trying to keep myself calm, focusing my mind on breathing steadily. There was a clamor from one of the halls, making everyone stiffen as the honorable musicians made their way over to us. I couldn’t fight off the smile on my face, feeling absolute disbelief at seeing the two men approach me and even just being in the same room as me.

“Hello, Mr. Page and Mr. Plant. I’m your translator for the interview today, and a huge fan.” I began, feeling a warm flush at my cheeks.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, love, what’s your name?” The former asked with a dazzling smile.

“Y/N. We can get started with the interview whenever you’re ready, I’ve also brought a few souvenirs from our city here for you on behalf of the whole crew.” I continued.

“Really? How kind of you, may we see?” Robert prodded.

I reached to retrieve said gifts, handing each of them what I’d picked out for them. First was an antique, ornate silver necklace with a golden-brown amber pendant for the singer, which he immediately requested I put on him and I may have let my hands linger a bit longer as I fastened it around his neck. Second was a sturdy ring with a smoky quartz piece dotted with deep crimson rubies for the guitarist as well as a book written in English about local folklore. They both profusely thanked me, still keeping a slight distance to let me warm up to them more and my demureness wore off.

My tone remained completely professional as I translated the questions and answers, trying to hide away the pure desire pulsating through my veins. It was so hard to resist it as they responded with very obvious euphemisms and kept the same mischievous expressions on their faces. That was complete torture, along with how I questioned each of the signals being sent at me and whether they were just joking or really meant to flirt with me. I also couldn’t tell which I preferred between the both of them as they both seemed to be equally as suggestive towards me.

The interviewer was reading one of his questions to me and I translated: “So, what do you do after finishing the shows you do now? Anything similar to your past activities from when you toured in the 70s?” 

They looked between each other for a moment, Cheshire cat grins on their faces before Robert replied: “Well, the times have changed so the ‘activities’ aren’t quite the same as before but we still like spendin’ the nights after good shows in enjoyment… to, uh, keep the energy goin’, if ya like.”

“Any specific plans for tonight?” I asked at the bequest of the interviewer.

“Nothin’ set in stone, love. But like Pagey said, it’s been a pleasure talkin’ to you so the evenin’s off to a good start.” He hinted.

“We’re glad to have such a lovely fan here with us, especially one who’s a brilliant translator. Perhaps we’ll have to take you around the city with us in case we run into communication troubles.” Jimmy added with a wink.

Robert encircled an arm loosely over my waist and leaned down, quickly explaining: “Just a little token of gratitude.”

He brought me in closer and pressed a kiss right onto my lips, catching me partially off-guard. My mind blanked out for a moment as my arms looped around his neck instinctively, kissing him back with the same intensity and finally able to release some of the fantasy-inflicted desire that had been plaguing my mind all day. It was an actual dream come true and even better than anything I’d ever imagined. I felt like a lightning rod was shooting through my veins with each heartbeat. My lungs started to ache for air and I drew away, stars in my eyes as I looked back up at a majestic Robert. He drew me nearer again to kiss my cheek as I felt a different pair of arms brush over my hips. 

I moved away, seeing Jimmy expectantly waiting for me with a smile and his gaze momentarily flitting to the cameras that were still recording everything that was going on. The cameraman made a joke to me about apparently being the right choice in translator for these two men, congratulating me on my luck and I only replied by laughing in giddy joy. Jimmy’s hand tugged at my shoulder lightly, turning me around to face him now as though to declare that it was his turn to bestow some “gratitude” upon me. 

There was no use in hiding the obvious love I had for them, so I reached a hand up to Jimmy’s shoulder and looked to him as his arms drew me nearer until I was pressed against his body. I hugged him tightly but felt the guitarist take a little more liberty in handling me – his hands roaming along my back and groping at me before lightly smacking my ass. My breath hitched and my heart stopped, definitely not expecting his shameless actions. I wanted to kiss him deeply right then and there, but the throat-clearing of the interviewer distracted the three of us.

Turning back from Jimmy and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear nonchalantly, I faced the camera to continue doing my actual job. There was only a singular question left and I easily translated it to them, glad that it was another suggestive one so they could rile me up so perfectly again. Jimmy and Robert answered as expected, every phrase laced with an innuendo. I faced the interviewer but felt myself being lifted from the ground by a pair of strong arms that picked me up as though I weighed no more than a feather. 

My arm looped around Robert’s neck to keep me steady rather than bothering to ask him to put me down, both enjoying this far too much and knowing that it was useless. Robert tried distracting me with a kiss to the cheek while I collected myself to do one last task for my job. I translated their answers, smiling from unbelievable happiness and from their blush-arousing responses. The interviewer had to clear his throat again, apparently surprised by their brashness as Robert continued to peck kisses onto my cheek and smile at me in fascination as I spoke a language he was entirely unfamiliar with.

The interviewer thanked both men profusely and concluded the discussion, the cameras still rolling for some reason. I was finally put down per my own request, but Robert didn’t let me go. A profound look was in his eyes as he gazed down at me and slowly leaned closer, a large hand at the back of my head so he could tangle it into my hair. I felt like an entrapped rabbit, unable to move from my place as the hunter approached and killed me with one fell swoop. 

My head leaned against the singer’s shoulder in surrender as he pressed his lips to mine again, first softly then rougher as I reciprocated his actions. His golden curls tickled my smiling face and I felt like I was melting into his arms at how perfect everything felt. The room seemed to still and the flicker of heat within my body only grew into a glowing fire. My recent memory and the ghost of the feeling from Jimmy grasping at me only turned the sensation into a raging inferno. I wanted nothing more than to let this dynamic continue, but it was put on hold for the concert they had to go perform. 

Robert gave me a chaste kiss “to tide me over” before changing into his lighter stage clothes and going out to the wings, telling me to watch from the side of the stage. Jimmy followed his bandmate, pressing a kiss to my forehead and smacking my ass once more with a quirk of his brows. I nearly yelped at the feeling, earning a satisfied smile from the guitarist. He assured that I’d enjoy the show, promised to play his best for me, and extended an invitation to whatever their post-show activities would include. Despite my brain being entirely too overwhelmed for rationality and only having my wild emotions or heated lust to make a decision, I quickly agreed to his offer.


	42. domestic rituals (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x reader  
> super fluffy

Request: "Hello, might I request a domestic scene with Jimmy, like at home or something? This is the extent of my capabilities to come up with a “plot”. Sorry if it’s too vague 😬"

There was comfort in being dull, and it only came as a rarity between the two of us. I would stay home, tending to work and keeping things in order for Jimmy since this intricately-designed, old estate was one of his other passions. It was never truly lived-in, as we practically walked on eggshells over the perfectly restored floors and Jimmy was here only half the year. But that made our time together in domesticity enjoyable, never monotonous or boring. It confirmed the age-old saying about hearts growing fonder with distance and time away from each other. 

We spent the day roaming the well-groomed grounds, all the way out to the bordering forest where we spotted a few wide-eyed fawns grazing on wild daisies and overgrown grasses. A thin mist hung above the trees with their lace patterned leaves, dissolving into the brisk air as the late-spring sun grew warmer and dried the dew from the ground. Jimmy laid out a faded plaid blanket under the wispy branches of a willow tree, giving us a place to rest our feet from the long walk. 

He was still getting used to eating solid food on a regular basis after a hectic schedule of playing concerts through varying time zones. I imagined the stresses looming over his head for all those months, offering him a sympathetic ear as he openly discussed some of his experiences. There was a kind smile on his face when he knew that he could wholly trust someone and would allow his defenses to fall away. 

Jimmy read aloud a darkly alluring poetry collection he’d taken from the shelves of Equinox, using one of the poems as an allusion to a beautiful gift he brought from the tour. His hands reached behind my neck to link together the silvery chain of the amethyst and emerald pendant necklace. It was his way of showing care – presenting a unique good luck charm meant to keep me safe and to harness my own energy, per his own words. The pendant hung heavy and pressed warmly against my chest and I made a mental note to keep it with me forever. 

We returned to the house a few hours later, forcing a light dinner into my beloved, and frankly bony, guitarist. The evening light dimmed early from the picturesque scene outside the delicate sheers on the windows, for the summer heat was still far away. We reclined together in the bedroom with sweet-smelling wax candles illuminating the room with a bronzy glow. I sat with my legs outstretched on the cushioned bay window, looking out at the tall trees and distant mountains. Jimmy was re-checking the organization of his bedroom bookshelf.

He approached me with a sudden urgency moments later, taking me by the hands and pulling me down to the medieval tapestry-styled embroidered rug. I looked at him with a curiosity only to be shushed before I could ask any questions. My hands remained placed lightly, palms-up, over his own and I sat expectantly. There was a gleam in Jimmy’s eyes, a pale pink hue to his cheeks, and a tousled curl to his raven hair that hung shaggy down his shoulders.

“I want to do something with you.” Jimmy confessed.

“What is it?”

“Our connection runs deeper than anything I could describe with words and I read something that I wanted to try and thought it would be- ”

“Jimmy, I trust you. Just tell me what you want us to do.” I smiled, feeling the warm glow of the candles within me.

“Well, shall I read the passage to you? It might explain this better than I could.” 

“However you want to do it.” 

He shifted to reach for the desired book, flipping to a dog-eared page then sitting across from me with an eagerness bubbling down from his fingertips on the book up to his lips that spoke the words from the page: 

“Now this is more lighthearted than the Shelley and such, being Kerouac, but it struck me when I first read it: ‘Couldn’t work tonight because of a thousand quivering passions. I love, I love. Someday my wife and I shall go to the rug in the bedroom, every night, and kneel, facing each other, and embrace and kiss, and she shall say, “Because we’ll never part,” and I will say “Because we’ll never part,” – and then we’ll get up and resume. This is a frenzy, this love. Every night the rug, or all is lost. The most beautiful love that ever was. To say, then, that I can’t work because of love, no, no – all my sweating work and suffering was work for love, not only a preparation for love, but part of love itself, – and all my future work, my future music.’”

His soft voice grew emphatic, changing in dynamic as if he were performing a new composition for me. Every word grasped at my very soul, touching me in a way I’d never dreamed anyone could and he still sat two feet away from me. My eyes would remember every detail of this moment: hearing such perfect words strung together in his voice and spoken to me, only me in this glowing room. They might not have been his own words, knowing that he didn’t have as easy a way with them as with music notes, but he’d chosen them for me.

“Well…?” Jimmy requested, his eyes teeming with a glint of nervousness at my silence.

“To say the least, I’m utterly speechless.”

“Is that good or bad?”

I could hear his voice re-playing in my mind, the words swirling together until I found a reply for him. My arms reached for his shoulders and I shifted up closer to him so we were wrapped in an embrace. The moment his own arms instinctively reached around me, I marked a trail with my lips starting from his jawline to his cheek and landing on his own lips. Through lidded eyes, I could see something indescribable in his expression as he leaned down to kiss me again. But before giving him the satisfaction of taking the lead, I pulled away and sat back with a stoic, yet flushed, face. Confusion was evident over Jimmy’s expression.

“Because we’ll never part.” I recited.

Only a moment of realization was needed for him to reply: “Because we’ll never part. And I do mean it, Y/N.”

“I’m very glad you do since I feel the same way.” 

And with that, my collected façade was shattered for the night. I reached for him again, in that same frenzy his poetic quote described that I could feel pulsing through my veins and knocking him down onto the rug. His fingertips roamed over my hips, a pleased smile curved over his lips, and a darker desire formed an eclipse over the lighthearted mood of before.


	43. insomniac cold blues (jimbert)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Page x Robert Plant  
> fluff

Lateness on Jimmy’s part was a rarity — a complete absence without note was unheard of. They were set to beginning recording new material with the date and time having been set two weeks in advance, so the guitarist was wholly aware of his responsibilities. Something was wrong and a concerned Robert immediately volunteered to go check on Jimmy since he wasn’t answering his phone either.

The drive over felt quick, maybe because Robert was anxious to see him and maybe also that he was driving a bit too fast. He hastily parked the car then walked up to gently knock on the door and call Jimmy’s name, hoping it would help him get to the door faster. There was a very soft noise from somewhere beyond the door but it was too faint for Robert to make out. He played with the doorknob and, luckily or unluckily, found it unlocked.

Everything inside the house seemed as it was so the singer dismissed the theory of thieves breaking in and something bad happening to Jimmy that way. He cautiously navigated his way through the slightly familiar hallways and found his bandmate’s room, the door shutting away any view of what was behind it. Upon opening Jimmy’s door, several things caught his eye and his worry only grew. An acoustic guitar lay on the floor beside a small stack of handwritten notes, various articles of clothing strewn haphazardly closer to the bed, cough syrup plus a few other medicinal potions on the nightstand, an unplugged telephone thrown halfway across the room, and a knocked-out Jimmy with a flushed face amidst the puffy blankets on his bed.

Robert approached him cautiously, shaking him by the shoulder and calling his name as a delicate method of stirring the guitarist. But his quieter efforts proved ineffective. Jimmy was clearly still breathing and okay besides his deep sleep, so Robert moved onto harsher methods: raising the volume of his voice, shaking him by the shoulders harder, lightly smacking the side of his face, even strumming a few notes on the cherished guitar in hopes of provoking him. Nothing. 

The final measure, before calling for outside help, was to startle him into waking up with cold water that was chilled even further with all the ice Robert could find in the kitchen icebox. He sucked in a breath before tipping the pail of freezing water over his poor bandmate, guiltily watching him jolt up in surprise and his soaked dark hair sticking limply to his wet face. Jimmy’s eyes were wide open, his breaths were heaving through his bared chest, and he barely even noticed the fact that Robert was even standing at his bedside. His body still trembled once the daze of bewilderment faded away and he shakily greeted Robert.

“H-Hello.” 

“What happened to ya?” Robert asked.

“I-I was-s under th-the weath-ther.”

“Okay, sorry for waking you like that but I had to. Let’s get ya outta bed so you’re not lyin’ around in soaked-through sheets and such.” 

Jimmy looked up at him nervously, “M-M-Mind han-nding me th-the clothes-s on th-the floor?”

“Sure.” The singer obliged, his caring nature in full force at seeing Jimmy so unwell.

As the guitarist weakly dressed himself under the now-wet blanket, Robert tidied up the various things that were scattered around the floor. He plugged the telephone back into the wall jack and wondered why Jimmy had ripped it out from its place. Maybe he anticipated all the phone calls he’d get and had a headache or something. After just a little tidying, the room seemed a bit clearer now. Robert reached towards the drawn curtains only to be stopped by Jimmy’s scratchy voice.

“D-Don’t! It’ll h-hurt my eyes-s.” 

“Alright, d’ya need help gettin’ up?” 

He only nodded shyly in response, not wanting to admit he needed so much help. The two of them leaned up against one another and hobbled over to the living room so Jimmy could recline over the sofa. In the meantime, his bandmate ventured off to put a kettle on and change out all of the bedding he’d soaked with the ice water. Robert rifled through the cupboards, finding some ginger black tea to steep in the boiled water and bring to Jimmy. 

Even in just those few minutes of roaming around the house, Robert came back with the tea to find the guitarist with disheveled hair passed out again. His pale face was weary, a pink flush over his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His mouth had fallen agape as he breathed lightly in slumber. This time, Jimmy was more easily roused and sat up quietly. He took the tea between the two of his hands and sipped it. Robert sat down at the opposite end of the sofa and watched him in concern.

“What happened to ya?” 

Jimmy cleared his throat, still speaking in a nasally gruff voice: “I got sick.”

“I caught onto that.” Robert assured, a lopsided smile stretching across his lips. 

“I think I had a cold. And I was working a lot.” 

“Maybe it was too much, did ya eat anythin’? Maybe take a break?” 

He shook his head. “I took some medicine, but I don’t think it helped.”

“Probably ‘cause ya need to take a day off an’ rest. I’ll stick around for anythin’ ya might need, Jimmy, you just need to have some sleep an’ not work for a day.” Robert insisted.

“No, no, I’m okay…”

“No you’re not an’ I’m stayin’ here to make sure you get better. Can’t work if you ignore the problem as it gets worse an’ end up in a hospital.” 

Jimmy hushed, knowing that the singer had a point and that he didn’t have the strength to really argue against him. As much as he didn’t want to just drop his work and spend the day doing nothing productive, it was really all he could do in this state. Robert sat beside him throughout the day and would bring him books, tea with honey, anything else that would help the unwell guitarist. He even attempted to cook and managed to do so without burning down the kitchen. 

After a little while, the reading was starting to make his head hurt and he’d already read quite a few of the books that Robert brought over. The television would only make the headache worse and he really couldn’t get up without feeling a bit dizzy. Robert was busying himself by reading the books Jimmy said were his favorites. With a little bit of courage and a slightly clearer voice, Jimmy made another request.

“P-Percy?”

“Yeah?” 

“My head’s hurting from staring down at the words and I’ve mostly read these books, so could you just talk with me?” 

“Sure. What about?”

“Anything, I can’t fall asleep and I want this headache to go away.” 

The guitarist shut his eyes lightly to avoid the bright sunlight streaming into the room through the thin curtains, waiting quietly for his temporary caretaker to begin talking.  
“Alright… uh, what’s your favorite color?”

“What kinda bullshit question is that?” Jimmy criticized, furrowing his brows.

“Hey, you caught me unprepared! Sorry, that was the first one I could think of that I didn’t already know the answer to. Um… what’s your favorite memory?”

A little smile stretched over Jimmy’s lips, “Well from experiences you’d remember, either when you stole Sonny Boy Williamson’s harmonica or the moment after we almost slid off that horrible road in the car in America because we were all so relieved that we made it through the snow and you had the biggest smile on your face.”

Robert paused for a moment before meekly responding: “Really?”

“I wouldn’t have mentioned those times if I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh…um, well onto the next question.” He cleared his throat, confidence returning to his tone. “What’s your favorite time of day?”

“Just after nine-thirty at night when most people are already settling down so everything feels still and peaceful. You can see all the stars and the moon clearly too. What’s yours?”  
“The mornin’ since you have the whole day ahead of you an’ you can see the sunrise if you’re up early enough. Fewer people get to see those an’ truly appreciate them compared to sunsets.”

“We really have nothing in common besides the music.” Jimmy quipped.

“Opposites attract?” Robert countered. “That is, only if good ol’ Pagey is makin’ a move on me.”

The guitarist smiled shyly but said nothing. His face seemed to flush a little more as he turned away, messing with his long black hair to seem nonchalant. In his chest, though, his heartbeat was pattering nervously because he hadn’t expected his joke to half-oust him. The singer, already concerned for his bandmate, noticed something had changed in the air between them with his comment and regretted it.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Pa- “

“No, it’s okay. You were just making a joke.” 

“Joke ‘r not… if it bothered ya, I’m sorry an’ tell me what bothered you so I won’t do it again.”

“Eh, well…” He began, clearing his throat and thinking through his words carefully. “Well, it’s just that it wasn’t totally untrue. And I’m not just saying that because you’re taking care of me now. There’s always this energy onstage and when we play together, but it’s different with you than the other guys. I understand if you don’t feel the same thing and it’s a real shame if this puts a rift between us in work- “

“Shh, for once you talk too much.” Robert insisted with a smile. “I didn’t wanna say anythin’ ‘cause I thought maybe I was jus’ amazed by your musicianship but today proved me wrong.”

“So… what exactly are you saying?” 

“Exactly what ya think, Pagey.” 

The bold singer seemed demurer as his hand ghosted over the guitarist’s and he leaned closer to press his lips gently to Jimmy’s forehead. He leaned back with a faint smile, looking down into the guitarist’s pretty green eyes for a reaction. Something between the two of them finally felt at peace, now that the tension of what had never been confessed was finally cleared from the air. Now both of them had peachy-pink flushed cheeks and little smiles at their new, shared secret. 

“I thought you played football.” Jimmy remarked.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Your aim is horrid.” 

Robert chuckled, “Sorry I didn’t want to get sick from ya. One of us is enough an’ neither of us is a doctor so you may be contagious.” 

“Headaches aren’t contagious, Percy. And I’m pretty sure I knocked the cold with all that cough syrup.”

“Fine. But if I get sick, it’s your fault an’ I get a complimentary guitar lesson sometime this month.” He wagered.

“Alright, it’s a deal.” 

A victorious Robert leaned down again, this time pressing a kiss to the guitarist’s soft lips and placing a hand gently over the side of his face. Jimmy’s hands reached out from under the blanket to delicately place themselves onto the singer’s shoulders to entrap the two of them closer together. It felt like the warm glow of a candle’s little flame had been lit within them and its heat spread gradually through every single cell in their bodies. Robert pulled away much too soon, still only a few centimeters away from his bandmate’s lips as he tried to gauge the guitarist’s reaction. 

Jimmy remained silent, his lidded eyes not revealing even a hint of how he felt so Robert prodded it out of him with a light-hearted joke.

“Bit like kissing Snow White, if I’m honest.” 

“Why is that?”

“Well, first, you’re lyin’ down an’ not really able to push me off since you’re not entirely yourself. Second, you’ve got pretty black hair an’ you’re even paler than I am so the name works out for you too.”

“Very funny, prince charming. Just wait until I get better and then I’ll show you Snow White.” Jimmy threatened, his voice gruff in tone but still had an air of its usual gentleness.

Robert fluffed his hair briskly with a mischievous smile and set off to the kitchen, putting the empty teacup into the sink. There was a giddiness pulsing through his veins and he couldn’t fight off the silly grin on his lips, still able to feel the pressure of Jimmy’s against them. He didn’t want to think about any consequences or other concerns when there was so much excitement and adoration in his heart. And though the serious Jimmy would probably never admit it to anyone else, he felt the exact same way too as he lied on the sofa in thought.


	44. let me take care of you (john bonham x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Bonham x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "What about trying but failing to dom bonzo😳"

I was standing at the side of the stage with one of my friends whose close relative worked the security here and let us hang out backstage, just as long as we wouldn't bother the band. Both of us were dressed exactly as we'd been planning for ages in our daydreams, giddily observing the performance with wide eyes and disbelieving grins. We stayed back in the hallway all night until we heard the band taking the stage and nearly ran up to our positions at the wings.

My friend had eyes for the flashy blond singer who looked something of a lion with his long golden man, stalking the front row of the audience with each confident stride and roaring notes into the microphone he clutched tightly in his hand. Her poor relative looked on from somewhere, knowing from her wide-eyed stare that she'd try scoring a night with him. Then again, it wasn't like she'd ever been particularly subtle about what she dreamed of doing with the man prancing around the stage.

But my gaze was set further upstage, right behind the drum kit where the thunderous beats were being hammered through my whole body and into my heartbeat. I could hardly believe the freaking god of drumming was right there. Tossing his head back, his dark brown hair shining in the hot stage lights, sweat beading down his brow, strong arms pounding at the instrument, his expression showing just how lost in the music he was. I couldn't look away... hell, I could hardly breathe.

As he ripped through his drum solo, I just barely noticed Robert coming up towards our side of the stage and flashing a dazzling smile at us. My friend nearly fainted. I was still focused on how the drums created a song entirely on their own between different drum pitches and the varying timbres of using sticks vs. hands or hitting skins vs. brassy cymbals. His hands were blurry from how fast he moved them and I swear my knees almost buckled underneath me.

The rest of the band joined into his solo later and Robert ran back onstage to shout out the drummer's name victoriously to the madly cheering audience. They played a few more incredible tracks, being called out desperately for an encore as no one wanted the night to end quite yet. But it had to end eventually, and Robert called a cheerful "goodnight" that made the audience cry out. My friend clutched onto my arm with excitement for a moment before trying to regain her collected façade as he walked past us to the dressing rooms.

Once the band passed us by, both of us finally moved from our places and followed along behind them to where most of the crew were hanging out. A few other non-crew people crowded into the area as well, just as hopeful as we were towards meeting the band. My friend had a lot of competition, given the amount of times I heard them whispering the golden god's name in hope of his reappearance. I smiled slightly to myself and awaited the unbelievably gifted drummer.

We were apparently very lucky that night, the singer entertaining several people in the backstage area with his friendly lopsided grin and throwing his am across my friend's back. I smiled in delight for her but darted my eyes back up at him when he acknowledged the both of us, and I hadn't heard what he said.

"I was askin' if you both enjoyed the show, you were standin' right by the stage the whole time." He restated with a chuckle.

My friend answered immediately: "Oh, it was wonderful. Your voice blew me away completely, it's even better in person and the way you sing is so expressive."

"Yeah, I don't think I can say much more than what she just did. But I will add that the Moby Dick number is just outrageously good, how does he play like that?" I questioned in awe.

"I dunno, ask the man yourself. Hey Bonzo!" Robert called, turning to herd his bandmate over to our conversation and effectively making my heart stop.

My friend and I shared a look.

"Yeah?" The drummer asked, approaching the three of us.

"This little lady over here wants t'know how ya play Moby Dick." Robert motioned to me, moving further off to the side with my friend to continue a more private conversation while listening in on ours.

"With a lot of practice, ha!" He quipped, quirking up his brows in a laugh.

"However it's done, your playing is probably the most brilliant drumming the world's ever seen."

"Now I know for sure you're no bloody journalist or critic. I like ya even better." He clapped a hand over my shoulder, sending electric shockwaves through my skin.

"Those people have no idea what they're talking about, I've seen a few of those ridiculous reviews." I added, a fiery bloom in my chest at remembering those scathing articles.

"Not like their opinions matter when the record sales are just as good." He pointed out, noticing a tinge of frustration in me. "What's your name, love?"

"Y/N."

"Did you come 'ere by yourself?"

"No my friend's run off with Robert. We were at the side of the stage for the whole show and I think she's absolutely ecstatic to meet him."

"You weren't gonna steal 'im away yourself?" He teased.

"Well she's my friend and I wouldn't really do that, especially since I have my sights set somewhere else."

"Ah, Pagey."

"Nope."

"Ol' Jonesy?"

"Wrong again, Mr. Bonham."

"Well don't tell me you snuck backstage just for the music."

"Of course not, too much trouble in that even though the music's astounding. You're just being a little too humble." I hinted more indelicately.

He grinned and ruffled my hair, "I knew I liked ya. Wanna come back with me once we're all set to go?"

I nodded eagerly, "I'd be very happy to. That way I can keep an eye on my friend."

As if on cue, their burly manager loudly announced for his charges to "get their asses in the cars outside" and more warmly greeted a few of us guests. The strong arm over the small of my back guided me onwards to where the rest of the crew was headed, through the back doors. I was thankful for the cool night air that chilled my heated skin and partially relieved the flush rising up to my cheeks.

Bonzo stuck with his blond bandmate and my friend, the four of us piling into one car together. The two men gave each other some sort of funny look while my friend and I smiled at each other in congratulations. We slid into the backseat together, Robert perching my friend on his lap so we'd all fit together comfortably.

"Ah, nice to see ya again." The singer jeered at me.

"I'm just making sure you take good care of my friend here." I crossed my arms matter-of-factly.

He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed honorably, "I foreswear to keep your dear friend safe, happy, and satisfied. I am nothing if not a gentleman."

His bandmate chortled from beside me and the rest of us couldn't help chiming in laughing, having heard enough of their touring horseplay stories of this rowdy group's behind the scenes life. Well, all except John Paul Jones. Robert attempted redeeming himself with proofs of his non-hooligan behaviors while Bonzo gave him fiesty rebuttals, making the whole car (besides the driver) erupt into laughter until we were told to get out at the hotel.

Our two duets split apart, finding the musicians' rooms and being escorted into them by our hosts. My friend and I waved wifi goodnight to each other with the anticipation of seeing each other at some point in the morning. The drummer's strong arm around my back guided me inside easily and he shut the door behind us. I ventured off a bit further into the best room, observing it for a few moments, then turned to face him with a boldness I didn't realize I'd been holding back on the car ride over.

Something had sparked in my mind, like a bubbling over or culmination of how I'd felt watching him play for hours on stage that finally disked through me entirely. It was like a dawning realization that this very same man had brought me back to his room for the night, and all the implications that go with such a situation. My desiring fantasies were aflame again as he came towards me. I was overwhelmed with so many thoughts about what I wanted to do for him or with him, and I just wanted to dive right into him.

Propelled by a wave of confidence and want, I closed the gap between us. My hands held the sides of his face, my fingers tangling into the soft patches of long dark hair, my lips pushed into his own, my torso pressed against him. It felt as though I could pour some of this feeling into him with my lips. An even more intense rush spread through me when his strong hands rested over the small of my back and pulled me even closer into him.

I drew back breathlessly, my lips still only a centimeter away as he held me in place. "You've been so kind to me and just played quite the show, let me take care of you."

His brows raised with a pleasantly surprised smile, "Are ya sure, love?"

"Of course, you must be tired." I reasoned, pulling myself out of his grip and coaxing him to lie down onto the neatly made bed.

John reclined back against the wall of pillows for me as I climbed up to straddle his hips, leaning down to kiss him again while my hands fiddled with his belt buckle. I could feel his grasping touch over my ass, pulling away anything covering my skin as a reciprocate action. But I pushed his hands away and sat back up to undress for him as I kneeled over his body, sticking to my statement of taking the lead.

Once layers of cloth obstacles were removed from obstructing the course of the night, I requested that he didn't touch me at all while I continued. I shifted my body further down towards the foot of the bed, circling my first around him as I bent down to kitten lick along his length. My eyes glanced up to see a pleased yet greedy expression on his handsome face. I could tell he was having to put effort into keeping his hands to himself and not force me to stop teasing.

My mouth moved on from there, straying away to press kisses over his hip bone and thigh, trekking up to his stomach then his chest until I reached his sternum. He watched me with an almost pained expression but kept patiently quiet. I kissed his chin, his lips, then the very tip of his nose and smoothed away strands of hair that had fallen into his face. His hands reached up to caress my face lightly.

"C'mon darlin', are you gonna torture me all night or somethin'?" John pleaded, his jovial smile carrying a hint of a pout.

"That's certainly an option." I mused, earning a berating groan from him.

"Maybe I'll just 'ave to take things into my own hands..." He threatened back.

"No!" I commanded. "I'm staying with what I aid earlier."

But as he was already impatient with me, I started appeasing him a little. I shifted to knew over his hips again, tilting them forwards and back to drag my wetness over his length as one last little tease. He flashed me a warning look as an overwhelmed groan fell from his lips. Only then did I finally sink down onto his hips and tilted my head back at the sensation, feeling flush with awe at how this dreamlike tryst was my reality. I rolled my hips languidly, wanting to take my time with this and make it last for as long as possible.

John's impatience flared up again as he pleased for me to go faster, his hands ghosting over my hips until I pushed them away. I tried following along with his request but almost lost myself in the pleasure when I went too much faster, and I wasn't too used to the position anyways. John kept giving me sighing encouragement as he involuntarily jerked lightly up into me as an effort to alleviate his tension. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat and hot breaths shaking out from my parted lips, the scene being almost too much to handle in that moment.

My body slowly grew accustomed to it and I felt brave enough to throw a comment between breaths: "I told you I could take care of you."

He chuckled, "If by that you mean being a fuckin' tease, torturin' a man all night, then yeah."

"You don't like it?" I pouted, intentionally rolling my hips forward a little harder and being rewarded with an off-guard groan from John.

"'Course I do, you're just goin' so slow I can't take it, honey."

"Then do something about it."

I knew it was like poking a bear with a stick, but I felt a little powerful saying that to John and didn't really anticipate for him to do much besides try to guide my hips more. But I underestimated just how easily he could flip a switch in a moment, and that's exactly what he did. I barely had the time to react before I felt his body weight shift over me, his arms reaching out to reposition us with me now underneath him. The action nearly knocked the breath out of me, and I felt a ripple of heat pulse through my abdomen.

He held my thighs carefully, his fingers digging into my skin as he drove into me deeply. My head tilted back into the pillows and my back instinctively arched from his building pace. It was like watching him drumming again, only the rhythm was being skilfully bashed into me and I could barely keep my eyelids from squeezing shut in pleasure. John snickered to himself at my falling-apart state and leaned over to press his lips to my cheek.

"You look so pretty like this, an' nice try earlier honey. I'll be sure to give ya a proper 'thank you' for it." John taunted in my ear.


	45. venus in furs (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader (the Venus)  
> Warnings: nsfw (masochism)

request: "Hi, could you please do a one shot with Jimmy in his early 20s, where he would be a "slave" (being whipped and all) for his goddess, like in Venus in Furs? Him being a masochist in the early days because of this woman he met, giving context to why he liked to play with women in bed and punish them in the Led Zeppelin years, because he was first played by his woman, who he thought that was the Venus godess, who left him. Sorry if this is wild or crazy and that's alright if you don't wanna do it!"

He sat at the benches outside the studio building, right by the circular fountain. It was a mid-spring day when the weather was just starting to clear up for summer but not quite warm enough to dress for it. Around this time, Jimmy would notice a particular girl come out of there building behind him every day of the class week. She had the sultriest eyes and immaculate taste in clothes, strolling around the art college campus as though a model in a photoshoot. The only thing that stood out was the relatively large, bulky black bag slung over her shoulder, likely full of art supplies.

None of his classmates knew this girl and he couldn't help but watch her as she passed by every afternoon. She'd caught onto his pining gazes after a while and would wave a greeting to him, causing Jimmy's pale face to erupt in a bright pink blush. He started to distract himself with sketching in his notebook around the time he knew she'd be walking by.

Today something changed. As students filed out of the studio, Jimmy turned his attention to the sketchbook filled with forms of her kohl-lined eyes framed with thick, dark lashes. He didn't dare look up at the sound of heels clicking against the concrete, having been disappointed a few times in the past thinking it was his unknown muse in her tall heeled boots. Focusing away from the clusters of meandering students was getting easier now. Except when he heard footsteps directly approach him and a honey-laced voice call to him.

"Hello stranger."

He glanced up from the sketchbook, closing it impulsively against prying eyes, and saw the very same smoldering gaze he'd been trying to capture on paper. The girl stood before him, dressed in a sandy fur coat and shiny black leather boots that hugged her legs all the way up to her knees. She offered him a sweet smile and asked if she could sit down beside him. Jimmy slowly nodded in surprise and couldn't help but watch her recline against the back of the bench like a cat with her leathered legs elegantly crossed before her.

"What were you drawing?" She asked casually.

"I was, uh, working on some forms. Lines and shapes of things." He responded shyly.

"You must be more of the classically-trained artist types. I like to just paint or draw whatever comes to mind in the moment and letting things take a shape of their own. It's more organic and free-flowing."

"I suppose so."

"What's your name?"

"Jimmy. And yours is...?"

"Y/N." She stuck out a poised hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine." He replied, meaning every bit of the cliched phrase. "Sorry if this is a bit forward, but would you like to have dinner with me?"

She smiled, "Sure. I think I'd better get to know my not-so-secret admirer, helps me decide whether I'm fine with it or need to place a restraining order."

Jimmy's face turned a deeper shade of red at the mention of his stolen glances at her. Well, at least she didn't seem frightened off by his infatuation with her and actually told him her name. Perhaps Y/N found him a bit intriguing as well. He collected his belongings and walked side-by-side with her down the streets of pubs that lined the roads by the college.

She was confident and radiant against his shyness, even though he tried to put on an air of self-assuredness with mixed results. He never really found himself so lost in relation to a girljme this but there was just something drawing him into her that he couldn't quite let go of. There was a coolness and nonchalance to her speech as she answered any of his inquiries then asked a few of him. He could barely tell what he was saying, only hearing the velvet softness of her enchanting voice and seeing what looked like a goddess to be before him.

The hardest decision he had to make was whether he was fascinated by her as a muse or as a person. She spoke eloquently and knowledgeably, but what really stirred his mind were the curves and lines of her form. From the sweep of her plush lips to the shape of her eyes to the edge of her chin to the soft texture of the fur coat she wore to the tapering line of her thighs peeking out underneath it. Y/N was the epitome of his perfect form. With every passing minute, he took her in with his eyes.

Only towards the close of their dinner together did he regain some sense of non-artistic perception of Y/N as he listened into her wise words about her favorite period of historic art. He commented on her taste and leant her his own view. She leaned her head against a propped up arm in interest as she listened to him.

"I think you've got a very interesting perspective, Jimmy. It's absolutely right." She concurred with a nod.

"Well art is up to the artist and the audience so there really isn't a 'right' or 'wrong' idea. Just my own take in the matter." He explained.

"Then I agree completely with your idea." She corrected.

Jimmy smiled at the new sense of familiarity between them and found himself offering to take her home without a second thought. Y/N accepted with a warm smile, looping her arm through his and following him down the road to his flat. The moment the front door closed behind them, he put down his belongings on a small tabletop and pushed her up against the door from an overwhelming urge to do so. She smiled against his lips and kissed him back just as fervently.

But Y/N pushed him back and Jimmy granted her leeway, not wanting to shoo the girl away over a small matter of holding onto control. Her lips grazed his neck like the flame of a candle teasingly burning into his skin as she stepped further and further inside his home. She pulled away, lips parted and eyes half-lidded then lounged over his sofa with her fingers nimbly undoing the buttons holding her coat clasped together. Jimmy observed her in awe, no thoughts running through his mind as he awaited to see what lay beneath the soft fur.

Her hands slightly parted the fabric, giving him a full view of the black lace hugging her hips and the bare curve of her breasts that remained hidden underneath the coat. She touched her hand delicately down her torso, keeping her intense gaze up at her astounded host. Jimmy leaned down to her and followed the path of her hand with his own, being guided down to the edge of the thin lace.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, Jimmy?"

"No." He uttered quietly, sitting down beside her outstretched legs and letting his hands trace the curves of her exposed body.

It hit him then that she was dressed like this for the entire day, no one knowing the heavenly secret that lied beneath the fur, and he felt his desire soar. How often did she do this sort of thing? Or had she anticipated this all along and dressed like this for him? Either way, Jimmy was impressed at her daring nature and maybe even smitten with her. She was quite a character and he'd only just found out her name.

He lined the curve of her breast with a fingertip, gently pushing the coat off her torso to reveal her bare skin. The deep sultry look in Y/N's eyes never changed, nor did she shy away. It was slow and sensual, Y/N daring him to continue with only her gaze while Jimmy took his time admiring her. The eased pace was nice, but Y/N regained control as she shed the coat from her shoulders and sat up.

"Take your shirt off, Jimmy." She ordered smoothly.

He unquestionably followed her request, undoing the buttons and shrugging the loose fabric off his slight frame. The edges of Y/N's lips quirked up in delight at his complacency. She asked him to stand up before her, pressing a kiss to his abdomen before her hands played with the restraints if his trousers and eased them down to the floor. Something in this was a bit odd to Jimmy but he played along, enjoying the idea of bringing her pleasure. He placed a hand gently over the back of her head as encouragement as her lips teased over his skin until he was practically aching for her.

But Y/N didn't give him any relief, only tormenting him further. The girl decided that she'd had enough of fleeting touches and little gasps from Jimmy, taking her coat and placing it over the floor then lying down over it. Her smoky eyes looked to him, beckoning him over without a word. She grazed her hands down her torso until they pushed away the black lace. Jimmy reached down to assist her with the endeavor and observed as she lay completely bare before him.

Her eyes looked to him as she touched herself, subtle breaths buzzing through her lips. Jimmy felt like he just was watching something he wasn't supposed to but couldn't dare look away from the beautiful sight. Y/N was a shining goddess in his mind like this: lips parted in bliss, painted eyes lidded, head leaning back, body reclined over a cloud of fur. She lifted her glistening fingers up to him, Jimmy thoughtlessly bending down to lap at them with his tongue. How could he have refused the silent request after such a show and when she tasted so sweetly?

Her next method of torture began with the slight parting of her legs once she eased off the zippers of her boots and tossed them off to the side. Y/N beckoned a kneeling Jimmy even closer, giving him a light kiss with her velvet lips before coaxing him down to her hips. He trailed his mouth adoringly over the skin of her abdomen, drifting down to her legs. Her eyes stoically observed him, making him want to push her over the edge until she couldn't resist squeezing shut her eyes in bliss and break that facade of control.

Y/N sat up before he could begin: "Let's make a deal Jimmy."

"Okay."

"First one to make a noise, audible and undeniable, loses. Winner gets to do anything they want to the loser, within reason."

Jimmy wondered how she seemed to sense what he was thinking and remained quiet to consider.

"Don't tell me you doubt yourself, that would be a terrible pity." She pouted at him.

Now it was impossible to say no, with her jutted out lip and heightened hopes for this game. "Fine, I agree."

He kissed up from her ankle up to her inner thigh, moving higher and higher until he could give an experimental lick at her folds. Y/N's countenance hadn't changed. Only by the shortened breaths pulsing her chest at his continuation did he notice a reaction. He kept pushing her, trying to make her unravel with everything in his power and even tease her up to the point of begging for him. But Y/N merely lied still, convulsing just barely into his touch and gasps falling between her lips.

She was like a prideful lioness refusing to give up her power, even as he brought her up to the blissful wash of release and merely gave him a look of subtle arrogance. Jimmy was almost bewildered at her strong sense of control and not just because he thought he was fairly good, but because she barely even wavered. The girl sat up with a smirk, as though knowing exactly what was on his mind.

"My turn." Y/N smiled, already leaning in towards him as he lied down before her.

Jimmy observed this lioness on the prowl as she approached him on her hands and knees. She roughly repositioned him around to her liking and commanded sternly that he wasn't allowed to touch her. He could feel something new unraveling within him at this intense countering, but was distracted by Y/N's teeth lightly pressing into the skin of his thighs. There was something clearly more animalistic about this he'd never experienced before, and undoubtedly was enjoying it.

Her mouth trailed over his hips, following down a lone from his stomach until she reached a patch of bristled black hair. She held his legs apart by the back of his thighs, her nails clawing into them like talons as she dipped her head lower and avoided devoting any attention to his hardening length. Jimmy could feel a despairing growl in the very base of his throat but didn't dare just let her win their bet so easily.

He impulsively reached towards her, wanting to direct her touch so badly but only getting a warning flash of her eyes. There was a snarl within them as she lapped languidly over and around the sensitive skin of his balls. This one Y/N her victory over him.

His back arched, head leaned back, mouth fell into a wide "o" shape, eyes nearly rolled back, dark hair fell carelessly over his pretty face. Jimmy was a picture of succumbing to ecstasy. He couldn't stifle the visceral cry and only grew louder, accepting his loss to pursue the craving of release. Y/N kitten-licked him a few more times until she somehow knew he was on the edge, then sat back up with a mockingly innocent glow in her eyes.

Jimmy groaned, "Fucking hell, the least you could do-"

"No, I won fair and square so I get to do anything I want to you. Or are you not a man of your word, Jimmy?"

He whined to himself, feeling almost like a petulant child being refused a whim, but still forced himself to honor the terms of their agreement. Awaiting Y/N's command, he sat up and watched her reach for her large black bag that she always carried around. She unzipped it and leaned down to collect a few things from it, stashing them behind her back before Jimmy could see what they were. His thoughts were running wild, and again wondering if by some divine power she knew what was going to happen that day as she'd brought along these items.

"Pull up that chair over there." She commanded.

He complied, placing it a foot away from her.

"Now sit down and put your hands behind your back."

He complied again. The lioness circled him and clicked something cold, metallic into place over his wrists -- handcuffs. His blood was boiling in his chest, either some frustration from how easily she'd manipulated him or arousal for the very same reason. He wasn't too comfortable in this position, but Y/N walked back into his view and placed a finger to his lips. Jimmy held his tongue.

"Spread your legs for me."

Slightly and unsurely parting them, he grew bashful before her tough gaze. She huffed and leaned down to push them apart as roughly as she'd done on the floor just minutes ago. His knees were each placed at a corner of the seat and she finally revealed another item from being her back. A black leather riding crop was poised in her manicured hand and Jimmy swallowed thickly.

Y/N paced before him, building up his nerves as she swung the weapon around. It appeared as though she was in thought, wondering exactly how to torment Jimmy and just how far to push him. Finally, she halted and bent over so they were more eye-to-eye, almost demeaningly with her wicked smile.

"Count for me, will you?" She requested, a crooning look in her eyes.

Jimmy's heartbeat nearly stopped in his chest at realization but he nodded quickly.

Her hand came down to the very bottom of his inner thigh, near his knee, and he felt a slight jolt at the stinging sensation.

"One."

She smoothed the leather edge over his skin then smacked it down harder and further up his leg.

"Two."

The next hit was at the very top of his thigh, making him nearly jump from the seat.

"Three."

Her hand ventured to the other leg and repeated the actions, making Jimmy grow desperate for some relief as she had no higher to go on either leg.

"Six."

The crop struck him again, further back.

"Seven." He nearly groaned in anguish.

She traced the leather further in his leg, teasing at his ass and under his balls to make him squirm. The torture ended with a snap to his thigh again.

"Eight."

Y/N gave him two final smacks before setting the crop down between his feet.

"Ten."

"What do you say, Jimmy?" She prodded.

"Thank you." He nearly spat.

"Good boy, I think I've tortured you enough for one night, hm?" She reasoned to herself, coming closer to push his legs back together and swing her leg over his lap to straddle him.

Jimmy could barely breathe, hearing nothing in his mind but his own pleas for her to hurry up and stop teasing him. But he watched Y/N, his muse, studiously again as she seated herself over him: the confident arc of her posture, the dark gleam in her eyes, the curve of smugness in her lips, how her hair looked in this position, the soft lines of her thighs, the delightfully unique form of her torso. She was a goddess to him, and he was her mortal victim.

With a swift angling of her hips and positioning his tip into her with a hand, she took him inside of her with ease. A pleased smile etched her expression and a low hum buzzed in her throat. Jimmy fawned over her face, saturated in pleasure, the delicate tilt back of her head, and how her long lashes rested over her cheeks. But his observations were cut short as she rolled her hips and pushed her chest up against his own, the desire within him like a wildfire that bad just been soaked with kerosene. He only wished to be free of the restraints so he could touch her.

Y/N kept her hands at his shoulders for balance as she kept up a quick rhythm and her hot breaths fanned over his bare skin. He found himself leaning his head against her chest for some kind of contact with her as a distraction against the knot of pleasure tightening painfully within him. His daring goddess only drove them on harder and faster, her moans reverberating the room shamelessly. She called his name in a needing tone, driving him even closer to the brink of ecstasy.

The heat raged on through every cell in his body. Sweat rolled down from his underarms, beaded at his forehead, tickled into his dark hair, and glistened over his flushed face. Y/N was close, he could tell from how goddamn tight she clenched around him. Her hand raked through his dark hair, tugging on it and holding him even closer up against her frame. She didn't lose herself to a wave of bliss, though, but instead encouraged Jimmy with dirty words to his own release. His head tilted back into the chair, letting go with a few final deep groans and looking up at her sleepy smile while she remained over his lap.

"So good for me, Jimmy. A very good sport after losing our bet." She praised, kissing his forehead and brushing away his stray hairs.

His lungs were still heaving, pretty pink lips parted as he caught his breath and gazed up in wonder at Y/N. No one had ever been so intense and calculated as she had, which apparently made it that much more enjoyable. Something about her airs also made him want to please her in any way he could; to blindly follow her orders and honor the proud goddess until she was finally satiated.

She slid off his lap, Jimmy already missing the feeling of her being around him. Her feet padded across the rug and took her out of his sight, but he felt her hands freeing him from the cuffs behind his back. He stretched his arms and repositioned himself more comfortably. Y/N came to face him, placing feather-soft kisses on the reddened skin where he'd resisted the handcuffs a bit too hard. She pulled away to redress herself, collected her paraphernalia, and headed towards his door.

"Goodnight Jimmy, if there's a next time I promise I won't be so generous with you. You know how to find me if you want to." She winked, vanishing out the door before he could even slip in a word.

There was no second thought in his mind, he was goin to be sitting at that damn bench by the fountain and waiting for his fur-cloaked goddess. Whatever she had on her mind, Jimmy wanted to know exactly what it was and be a willing participant for her. His head swirled with images and thoughts of Y/N all night long, flowing into the next morning when he was sitting in class trying to complete a studio assignment. Even if he hadn't wanted to continue their tryst, it would've been impossible to resist after this hurricane of thoughts in his mind.

So there he sat, same bench and time as always to wait for Y/N. He didn't sketch anything this time, far too fearful of her accidentally seeing how infatuated he was with her from the countless lines of her figure and face etched into the pages. The fountain's water shushed and splattered in the background of quiet student conversations, the sun's light sparkling in its clear water, the air smelling of blossoming flowers and engine exhaust from the nearby roads.

Time passed like honey pouring out of a jar while Jimmy waited. He became lost in thought, recounting the previous evening. The memories alone made a heat rush through his body and he stiffened in slight discomfort, repositioning his crossed legs. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, his long-awaited Y/N approached his seat with a familiar smile on her face.

She was wrapped up in yet another fur coat, this one shorter and covered in leopard spots. Jimmy could see the hem of a skirt underneath it, a change from the day before. But she didn't join him in sitting on the bench today, merely offering out her hand as a cue for him to take it and follow her along. Jimmy stood up and allowed her to lead the way.

They ventured further from the college, turning over into a place Jimmy hadn't been to before. Y/N tugged him along through the quiet streets and led them up to the front door of the building on the very end of the street. The interior was elegant and sparsely furnished, like either someone just moved in or really loved minimalist design. Y/N directed him to stay in the living room while she changed into "something more appropriate".

Jimmy wondered what exactly she meant but remained in place, seating himself at the pristine sofa with his hands folded in his lap. The house was silent enough to hear a pin drop on the cold stone floor, so he assumed the building was vacant save for the two of them. Despite his collected appearance, Jimmy was full of nervous turmoil while waiting for Y/N's reappearance. He could feel his heart pattering in his chest and butterflies in his stomach, knowing he was absolutely mystified by this woman.

His ears pricked up at the sound of her he's clicking over the stone floor and when she called to him: "Jimmy?"

"Yes Y/N?" He looked to her, seeing her silhouetted shadow a few moments before he caught sight of her form.

And what a sight it was. The glowing goddess stood in the filtered daylight from the skylight as she walked down the stairs with the utmost poise. She held her fur coat by its collar, letting it traipse behind her steps like a majestic cape. Her body was embraced with flowery lace that almost completely blended into her skin tone in the most perfectly sinful way. The tall leather boots had been exchanged for a pair of heels that put a sexy skip in her step.

His eyes followed her as she approached him, the confident lioness back on the prowl. Y/N reclined like a posing model over the other edge of the sofa and kicked her heel-clad feet up onto his lap. Jimmy rested a hand over her crossed ankles, wishing desperately to touch her further but awaiting her command. Only a fool would dare provoke the wrath of this goddess, and besides, Jimmy only aimed to please her as he watched her with star-dazzled eyes.

"Why did you come back with me today? And be honest, Jimmy." She chided playfully.

"Well, exactly like what you said yesterday." He confessed with a nervous tone creeping into his voice. "I wanted to see you again and took up the offer."

"I see."

The following silence only made Jimmy want to break it, thinking perhaps he said something wrong: "You're a very intriguing and beautiful girl, and our talk yesterday was far more interesting than any lecture I've ever attended and-"

"I understand, Jimmy, I wouldn't have made the offer if I sensed you were a louse. I just wanted to know if you were completely alright with ah... building off of the evening." She elaborated, her honeyed voice gracefully gliding over every word.

"Oh, yes of course. What did you have in mind, Y/N?" Jimmy nodded, hiding away with eagerness as well as he could.

She chuckled haughtily, "It's a surprise, love."

Jimmy was nearly vibrating in anticipation but said nothing, only letting his eyes rake over her lounging form wrapped in thin lace. Y/N looked up at him through her thick lashes, as if able to read exactly what was on his mind and stifled a smile. With a sudden swing of her legs down to the floor, she flipped her demeanor. She stood back up before Jimmy, looking down at him coldly with her head cocked to the side.

"Undress for me and kneel down over the rug. I'll be right back." The goddess commanded, dismissing herself from the room again.

He heard her heels click over the stone floors, back up the stairs, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. What would happen if he didn't follow her order? It wasn't that Jimmy wanted to displease this goddess but he was merely entertaining the thought in his mind. Something told him, given the last night, that she wouldn't let a thing like that go unpunished. But what would the punishment be? That idea made Jimmy squirm in his seat and hands rush to fiddle off the buttons of his shirt.

The fabric slipped off his skin, everything below his hips followed, and he shifted around on his knees over the rug. It was certainly an odd feeling that he wasn't sure he liked, but the thought of seeing Y/N's pleased little quirk of a smile was enough motivation to kneel down. He straightened up his posture when he head the telltale heel-clicking strut coming towards him. A few items were hidden behind her back.

"Good boy, you listened so well." Y/N praised, stalking out his kneeling form.

Jimmy pursed his lips, awaiting her next move with his green eyes fixed on her beautiful face. He could feel himself aching more and more for her, wishing she would break this cold, distant façade faster then just get down to fucking him. But that was his wishful thinking. Jimmy didn't think he was so easily manipulated to someone's desires but it came natural to Y/N, as though she simply controlled his actions with the flick of a finger.

"Now lean forward for me, put your hands down in front of you, and count for me." She began, positioning herself behind his back.

"Yes, Y/N." Jimmy accepted faithfully and followed her directions.

She twisted her wrist around and a stinging sensation struck the bare skin of his lower back, teasing the base of his spine. He gave a gasped "one" to start the count. This girl had quite the arsenal of whips and toys, Jimmy thought to himself as his body jolted underneath the harsh leather tassels. His skin would be blossoming with red marks by the end of this venture, but the slight pain gave way to swirling pleasure. She struck him again and again, lower down his frame, until he felt his thigh muscles nearly tremble with how tight they were. His voice shook when he reached twenty.

"Have you had enough, Jimmy?" She crooned, lips like rose petals brushing the shell of his ear.

"Whatever you want, Y/N." He answered quietly, feeling goosebumps arise from his skin at her warm breath.

She theatrically gasped in delight, "What a quick learner. I think you deserve a treat for that, so we leave the count at twenty. Now lie on your back, Jimmy."

The gentle touch of her hand coaxed him along as he leaned back, feeling the slight burn of his tormented skin as it made contact with the rough threads of the rug. Tiny fluttering feelings rippled in his stomach. His goddess stood above with an assured stature, her nose in the air and eyes almost shut as she looked down to the floor at him. Something else was behind her back now.

She drifted down to her knees like a feather floating to the ground, straddling herself steadily over his slightly parted legs. The torture device in her hand was a wand-like thing and it was pointed gently into his side, a light prod over the skin. At least, until her manicured fingered pressed a small button and made a little electric shock buzz into his skin.

Jimmy quivered at the feeling and his mouth fell open as his eyes fell wide. Surprise was evident on his face as he tried to collect himself immediately to stay still for Y/N. Quickened gasps were the only reaction he dared let out as she continued to prod him, tickling him with the little lightning bolts further and further down his hips.

"Ah- Y/N! Please..." He whimpered out just as the shock pulsed into the skin just over his groin, unable to hold back.

A wicked smile curled her lips, "Aww... is this too much for you, baby?"

"No!" Jimmy protested all too quickly.

"What do we say?"

"Please, please... please Y/N."

"Only since you were so good for me."

Y/N shifted forward, one hand rubbing the silken wetness between her thighs while the other positioned his tip right against her folds, owly teasing him into her. Jimmy's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the sight of the goddess easing down over him, leaning forward to show off her stunning face. Her head tilted back, supple lips parted, and eyelids gently shut while she took all of him. It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life, an ultimate inspiration for his art.

She arched back, gliding over his helpless form and pushing his hands away whenever he tried touching her while she pleasured herself. Her hands massaged over his tightened stomach and along his chest too, tantalizing him impossibly further with the constrictingly hard clenching around his length. He'd truly never experienced such an intense feeling before, like being tormented into earth-shattering bliss. A perfect collision of heaven and hell that came giftwrapped in a fur coat.

Release came to him the way that a riptide crashes over a person who's already drowning, merely sealing his fate and leaving him lifeless on the ground. She simply swung a leg over his body, standing back up on her feet with a satiated sigh and fixed the lace she wore back into place. Jimmy wondered at her constant nonchalance. Y/N now acted as though she didn't care for him now that the deed was done, like a toy being tossed aside after being played with twice.

"Do you need anything before you go home?" It's only six in the evening so everything should still be open for you." She asked, primping her hair in a nearby mirror without even glancing towards him.

"Can I see you tomorrow? Or whenever else you're able." Jimmy asked, sitting up and trying to hide the hurt confusion plaguing him.

She turned her head over her shoulder, "Sorry Jimmy. I don't think this is working out too well."

Something in the boy's head crashed down like a delicate crystal chandelier onto her stone floors. Hurt? Definitely. Anger? Not particularly, he barely knew her besides the terrible fascination that kept him coming back to her. Sadness? Just a little.

"So you're done with me? Like that?"

"I don't mean to hurt you, Jimmy. It's hard for me to stick to a man who merely kneels at my feet and doesn't even bother trying to challenge or... spar, if you like, with me."

"I could do that."

She gave him a pitying smile, "No you can't, darling. You lie beneath me and obey my every order, which is certainly enjoyable for a while. But I couldn't stay with you."

"So you'll never see yourself with someone for more than a few nights together? Just because they don't try to fight you?"

She chuckled, approaching him confidently and bending down so they were face-to-face. Jimmy had a pleading look in his jaded eyes, hanging on to this woman's every word for a semblance of hope in them. Y/N wiped any hint of amusement from her face, having gone through this enough times before.

"Jimmy, it's not just you. I could easily imagine myself belonging to one man all my life, but he'd have to be a man who could at least try dominating me from an innate sense of strength, not just because he thinks I'm pretty and wants me to stay. But every one of them I've met turns pliable and weak in love, putting himself into my hands and kneels before me. The only man I could love forever would make me feel as though our powers were equal. Understand?"

The heartbroken boy was sent home thereafter and never caught sight of his goddess again. He turned vengeful against the only woman who ever called him weak, and kept her words burned into his mind so no other woman would ever repeat them to him.


	46. premonition (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x reader  
> Warnings: hinted nsfw but not really

request: "just a jonesy fic"

My nerves were pulsing with excitement, making my stomach feel like it was flipped over upside down inside me as I lied down in bed. I tried to cling to any shred of sleepiness I could sense, with no luck. Tomorrow was the long-awaited evening of the concert my friend and I had tickets to. We purchased them the moment they were made available, excitement only building as the days counted down.

After hearing the mind-blowing debut album of this group, it felt like music had been changed forever for me. Nothing could compare to that incredible first listen to that record. The powerful vocals that flooded your soul, the drum beat that hammered into your chest, the bassline that shot into your veins to pump your blood instead of your heartbeat, and the guitar that roused something indescribable from your core up your spine. I was so haunted by it that the chance to see the band was impossible to ignore.

Still unable to find sleep, I went to the kitchen and rifled through the cabinets in search of something that could make me sleepier. Taking down a few pills of valerian, I returned to bed. The warm blanket was pulled up over my shoulders like an embrace, my cool pillow like a cloud beneath my head. A crescent moon glowed dimly outside, and it was the last thing I saw before drifting off to sleep. Everything was still for a while.

As I slept off those pills, my hazy mind brought me a vision. Something I could see in complete clarity as though it wasn't just a dream. There was a man with me, his presence soothing and not at all frightening or unwelcome. He was poised over my resting body, his hands touching me with rough fingertips and a warmth flooded through my whole abdomen. I caught glimpses and flashes of his appearance as he was driving to a pleasureful madness.

He had a kind face that was outlined with sharp cheekbones and softened blue eyes the color of the deep ocean. There was a pearly pink flush on his face as his soft lips parted and pressed down to my neck. A burst of butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the sensation. I could feel the soft skin of his torso against my fingers, the tickle of loose strands of his feathered tawny hair against my skin, the touch of his nose grazing my neck as he kept kissing me. It made my head light and floating.

Perhaps this wasn't a dream, I could vividly and unmistakably sense all of these things. His delightful touches, the hint of earthiness in his comforting scent, the taste of his lips against my own, the sight of his silhouette over me, the sound of rustling bed sheets beneath me and the quickening gasps racking through his chest. I tried stifling my loudening breaths, my head tilting back into pillows in hope of relief from this building, heavenly bliss within me.

My alarm blared, waking me up from what I now knew to be a dream, and all too soon. Morning light glared into my eyes through the sheers of the window and I sat up in bed to collect myself, shaken by this vision. No more valerian for me. Next time I'd just have to stick with something else or simply tire myself just before bed.

I distracted myself with a new thought: the concert tonight. The strange dissatisfaction of my dream gave way to the same restless excitement of the previous evening and I made final preparations for the night. That debut album played on the turntable all morning as I made myself breakfast and sang along quietly, in awe of these brilliant musicians. My mind even wandered to wonder what they looked like, as their pictures weren't anywhere on the vinyl sleeve.

As the day dragged and rushed on, the sun crossed its familiar path in the sky down to a descent over the distant horizon. I met my friend at the theatre amongst all of the other buzzing audience members, pushing through the doors to find our seats just behind the front row. An introduction was made over a fuzzy intercom speaker and applause rose from every aisle of the crowd to welcome the band onstage.

On came a dark-haired man with a moustache who sat pridefully behind the drum kit. He was followed by a man with black hair that covered half of his face and a guitar slung over his chest. Next came a man who somewhat resemble a lion with his cropped mane of golden curls as he stood before the microphone stand. From the other side of the stage, there came the final member of the band with a bass guitar.

Time halted out of nowhere. I couldn't hear or see anything besides his face, recognizing him instantly as the man from my dream. Only as the first song invaded my sense was I brought out of my mind. It was a wonderful show, even more experimental than what they played in the record. But I couldn't recall much else, as my eyes remained fixed upon the bassist. His shining blue eyes gazed over me about four songs into the show and they observed me too, as if he recognized me too but felt uncertain.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a man as the band played through the last song of their setlist. He shouted that I'd been called backstage at the request of one of the guys in the band. My heart had been pounding in my chest all night at the show, but this made it stop. Almost frozen in place, I slowly nodded and followed the man through the turning, hidden-away hallways of the theatre until I stood just beyond the wings. It was like I knew what was going to happen once they came back here, but at the same time I was in complete ignorance in the affair.

As they finally concluded a few encore songs, the audience roared at them and the glistening-faced musicians filed back through the wings. They returned in the same order they'd left: drummer, guitarist, singer, bassist. His eyes landed almost instinctively on me and he smiled softly, familiarly, as he approached.

"Hi, my name's John but everyone calls me Jonesy." He introduced himself politely. "This is going to sound strange, but I think I've seen you somewhere before and I just had to call you back here."

I returned his smile, "It's not strange at all. I know I've seen you someplace before, and my name's Y/N."


	47. the sunblock one pt.2 (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader (younger)  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: no particular one, i just got loads of requests for a part 2

After our initial meeting, Jimmy snuck me a phone number to reach him if I was interested in continuing the activities of today. There was no second thought in my mind about my choice. I only wondered how good he was with his phone as I sent him a casual "hi this is Y/N" text when I got home, receiving a reply only a minute later. A jolt of excitement shot through my heart when I saw the notification pop up with his name. I took a moment to collect myself as I sat down on my bed and opened up the message.

Jimmy: Good girl, my Y/N. I assume this means you got home safe?

As days went by, I noticed he was very prompt with his responses and would easily switch between tones of voice in his texts, going from slightly suggestive to downright dirty to completely casual to soft and sweet between each line. It drove me absolutely crazy, even through the phone. Jimmy knew exactly what to say all the time and sometimes it made me have to take a breather before trying to think of a reply.

An irresistible smile would appear on my face whenever I noticed a new message from him, often prompting my suspicious mother to ask if I was dating someone behind her back. I had to assure her time and time again that it was just my friend sending me pictures of their cat or funny posts. She didn't entirely buy it with my flushed face. But the brushes with being caught made my heart race in my chest even faster, somehow appealing to me like my first meeting with the man I was corresponding with.

I would eagerly spend evenings after dinner in my room, the door shut, lying on my bed, and conversing with him. It was a highlight of each day to talk about anything under the sun. The other night he told me about his experiences at art college, what kinds of art he favored, a few painters and sculptors he happened to have pieces from. I could almost see the fond smile on Jimmy's face as he eloquently typed out his vast art knowledge to me.

He would also check in with me and ask how my day was going, what plans I had caring questions or comments hoping that I was alright. They were heartwarming. But part of me desired those raunchy messages that sent ripples down my abdomen more than any of the others.

Jimmy: Did you do anything fun today?

Me: Nope, just this

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: What a shame, but I'm glad you look forward to our nightly talks

Me: Well I don't want to bother you in the daytime too much if you're busy and you're very stimulating to talk to

Jimmy: Stimulating?

Me: You're very good at talking about a range of subjects... and a few other things

Jimmy is typing...

My heart was already racing a little as I watched him continue typing for a while longer, either writing something long or maybe trying to place his words carefully. Something told me the mood of the conversation was about to change drastically.

Jimmy: What might these "other things" include? Retelling our first meeting and my favorite parts of it?

Me: Those are my favorite parts too so yes, and it was fun

Jimmy: Oh really? Naughty girl

Me: Especially when you thought we were done when they came home but I finished you off

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: You want me to cum down your throat again?

Holy shit. Here we go again. Thank goodness we weren't face to face or I would've been rendered speechless for a few moments or stumbled over my words. I could almost feel myself reliving that particular moment in my mind as I tried to come up with a response to propel this onwards.

Me: That's a bit difficult to do over the phone

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: I could always have my driver pick you up and drive you over here, no distractions or intruders this time. Only if you want it.

Yes, yes, yes, holy shit yes. I could easily make up some excuse of meeting a friend or something to get out of the house and sneak off to him. This time I did try to halt my impulse to just submit to whatever he offered me, trying to think of any valid reason to reject it. But I wanted to go to him so badly and nothing really held me back. With my body feeling a bit heated, I sent him a reply that hid my overwhelming excitement a little.

Me: Sure, I'm looking forward to it already

Jimmy: When should I send my driver to you? And where?

Me: I'm free whenever, earliest would be tomorrow afternoon

Jimmy: 2pm? Bring along a anything you'd like to stay the night, I'll take care of you

My heart stopped for a moment. I instantly caught onto the double-entendre of his "caretaking" but also noticed that he meant for me to spend the night with him. I assume he would just want the afternoon then send me back home before nightfall. This was only making the prospect much more exciting, and a touch intimidating.

Me: Okay, I'll tell my mom I'm staying at a friend's house so she doesn't get suspicious

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: Smart girl, we wouldn't want your mother knowing what you're really running out of the house for

He really did have a way with words, and not just poetically. I could envision the smug shine in his eyes to accompany the taunt. Something made me want to get back at him for the comment, but a simple jab wouldn't do... I wanted to escalate things even further.

Me: Maybe I could get your help with what I should wear for tomorrow

Jimmy: Nothing at all would be fine

Me: Would you like some visual aids? And nothing doesn't count you dirty old man

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: Please, I'm a willing audience for the show you'll put on for me

Me: Give me a few minutes, I'll send you some photos. Any immediate preferences?

Jimmy: Whatever you like

I put the phone down and wrestled a deep breath in my lungs. This was a gutsy move but I wanted to do it and he gave me his consent to send him pictures. Something about his demeanor gave me immediate confidence, like there was nothing shameful about expressing myself this way. I quickly rose up from my bed, made sure the door was locked, and rummaged through my drawers.

After a few quick minutes of debating between a few options of items more delicate than what I normally wore, I picked the top three and changed into them. The first was a barely-there ballet pink tulle number with roses embroidered through it that lied perfectly over my skin. The second was plain black but had lacy garters up my thighs. The final choice was a scandalously cut wine red bodysuit with panels of lace over my torso. I found myself smiling at the newfound confidence in how I looked in these getups.

Angling the camera so just my lips and the rest of my body were on display, I took a few pictures in each then chose one between them to send to Jimmy. I took a deep breath and watched them load into the chat. It was like everything moved in slow motion while I waited for him to see the messages and reply.

I tried calming my fluttering stomach as I reclined over the bed again, not bothering to change out of the bodysuit quite yet. My mind was a bit distracted while I looked at my reflection in the mirror. There was a new appreciation for how I looked, slightly surprised but happy with the change.

My gaze turned back to the phone, looking down at the bottom of the text page to see a check mark and "Read 9:42 pm" then "Jimmy is typing..."

I waited

and waited

and waited

Until a solid five minutes passed and a new messaged popped up at the bottom.

Jimmy: Shit woman, you're trying to kill a man with those little outfits. Wear whichever you like best, I can't choose and would thoroughly enjoy any of them

Me: Will do :) see you tomorrow

Jimmy is typing...

Jimmy: Have a good night, get some sleep now to make up for tomorrow

I smiled to myself and sent him my address. Only then did I finally change out of the lacy bodysuit and fell asleep thinking about our conversation. Thank goodness I would be picked up later in the day so I could get ready without needing to get up at the crack of dawn to an alarm clock. I continued to grin wider, thinking of my outfit choices and of Jimmy. An idea came to mind, but I chose to sleep on it first before making a concrete decision so my thoughtless anticipation would rest a little.

The morning light seemed to glow with a peachy pink haze, the smile of last night still unfading from my face as I prepared myself for the day and nonchalantly informed my mom that I had plans with a friend. She affirmed my statement, only asking who this friend was and how far away they lived. I gave her a total BS answer about an old classmate she didn't know and that it was about a half hour drive. She wished me to have fun and a goodnight, to which I fought the urge to say I know I will under my breath.

My overnight bag was packed before noon so I took a shower and had some time to doll myself up just a bit. I seemed a little less recognizable from the last time he saw me, as I had no makeup on in the pool. The idea that occurred to me last night still felt clever to me so I went with it, donning a skirt up to my mid-thigh and a loose blouse over the top. I pinned an opal pendant around my neck and spent my downtime lounging with a book, phone beside me in case of an update.

I was finally distracted from all my excitement with my book, finding my mind completely captured by the sensory details of the story. Time ticked by unnoticed as I laid back against a pillow I'd placed against the wall. My finger aimlessly played with my necklace while I read page after page, finding myself almost halfway through the book already when I heard a notification on my phone.

Jimmy: The car's outside your house, love

Me: Coming!

My heartbeat started to buzz again as I stood back up and collected my overnight bag. I could hear his snicker when he'd read that text and catch the accidental innuendo in it. But I suppose that was part of his humor. I put on some comfy Mary Jane heels and headed out, bidding my mom a nice day then practically running out the door before she could spot where I was going. As I opened the back door of the sleek black car outside my home, I was surprised to see Jimmy at the far side of the backseat. The partition was up too.

"Hello, love. How's your morning been?" He greeted with a friendly smile.

"Good, how are you?"

"Much better, now that I've got you with me."

I smiled shyly at his comment, trying to bite back a flattered smile and schoolgirl blush.

He placed a hand at my face, bringing it up so my eyes looked back up to him. "You're quite a tease, you know."

My eyes widened slightly, something dangerous lurking behind the shine in his dark green eyes. I had no words to make a remark and let him continue.

"You looked so pretty in all of them, I just wonder what your final choice was..."

"Then by all means, find out." I said softly, a stream of boldness rushing through me.

The tiniest sign of surprise flashed over his features and his hands reached towards my legs, gently landing on the bare skin above my knees. He teased the hem of my skirt up higher and parted my legs. His fingers trailed over the skin, daring to go up and up until he reached his target -- a real look of surprise coming across his face this time. A pleased surprise.

"My, my... I believe you deserve a reward." Jimmy commented, feeling nothing but exposed skin underneath his finger tips.

I smiled boldly and leaned back against the shining leather seats as his fingers delved further into me, his thumb gently rubbing over my sensitive skin. It was an incredible feeling, slowly falling apart like a flower opening up its petals as it blossomed. The sensation spread through my low abdomen and I felt a slick wetness pooling down between my legs, my breath becoming slightly labored as he worked me up to a high faster than I imagined possible.

"J-Jimmy..."

"Let go, sweet girl. I can feel you're right on the edge."

The warmth of release washed a warm wave through my core and I hummed in pleasure as he removed his hand from me. I looked up at him gratefully, slowly bringing myself up to a more collected state. He slipped his glistening fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with a wicked mischief.

"Mm, you taste sweet. Don't worry about the seats, someone will clean them off later." He assured.

I was about to express my bewilderment at the thought of someone knowing what had gone on in the car, but I was hushed when the car stopped. The engine shut off and Jimmy unbuckled himself, opening up the door to lead me out. I saw his elegant home once again, remembering our previous afternoon together in more detail now that I was back here.

"Would you like to have some tea?" He offered, taking me inside gently by the hand.

"Um, yes please."

His change in demeanor was like switching a light on and off, so quick that I hardly had time to keep up. I took my overnight bag over my shoulder and followed along with his directions. Jimmy took my belongings from me only three paces into the house, carrying them for me.

This time he led me down to a lower floor into a smaller version of the kitchen upstairs with a bar attachment. I sat at one of the stools, perplexity clearly on my face as he said "tea" not "various alcohols". He poured himself a quick drink, a splash of something amber that I assumed was quite strong. I rejected his offer for anything from the bar but watched him take a sip of his drink as he set a kettle full of water over the stovetop.

All the unspoken energy in the room was making me a bit restless, wondering what his exact motives were in bringing me down here. But I didn't have the courage to ask and instead enjoyed the moment, observing the paintings lining the walls that gave his home a cool art museum ambience. I turned back upon hearing the steaming tea kettle, seeing my generous host observing me like a hawk would a field mouse from miles above. There was something in it that both intimidated me and thrilled me.

Jimmy carefully brought down a china teacup with a matching saucer and gave me a wide selection of teas to choose from. He brought out loads of confectionaries on pretty serving plates that matched the design of my teacup and placed them between us. My stomach had been full of butterflies but I couldn't resist his kind offerings.

"I remembered you said something about enjoying some of these in our text conversations and had them picked up this morning. If you'd like anything else, just let me know."

"You've already been so generous and this is more than enough, Jimmy. Thank you."

"No reason to thank me, only decent for a host to offer you something. You seem a bit uneasy though, I want you to relax. What's bothering you?"

I pursed my lips. Damn, nothing gets past this man.

"It's not exactly something bothering me, per se. I think I just didn't sleep much last night or something and my stomach's been doing flips this morning. I'm fine now."

"Are you sure? Would you like to rest at all? I don't want you to feel ill."

"No, I'm really fine. It was just um... before the car ride."

He laughed lightly, "Oh I see, glad I could help."

A simple conversation spurred between us as I snacked on the absolutely divine delicacies he offered. My mind felt more at ease as he went on talking about his Tower House since I'd appeared interested by his art. I imagined the place in my mind as he described it: high ceilings, historic architecture, elaborate craftsmanship, and his own personal touches. Seeing Jimmy so enthralled made me want to catch him off-guard in this state, leaning forwards and halting his speech just before our lips met.

He didn't hesitate in reciprocating my motions, cradling my face with one hand while the other remained a firm tease right over my knee. His lips felt like two warm rose petals pressed against my own and it was impossible to ignore the fiery spark in my abdomen now growing into a flame. But as I leaned in closer, he only pulled further away and left me breathlessly wanting more.

"I almost forgot, I got you a few gifts. Nothing elaborate, don't worry. I'd like to make sure they suit your taste." Jimmy mentioned as he sat back, a hint of a smirk over his lips from my bewilderment.

I finished off my tea and followed him along to the adjoining room, an extra room with lavish Belle-Epoch stylings that looked straight out of a magazine. My brows furrowed as I laid eyes on four plain white boxes lying over an upholstered sofa. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever was in there was most certainly elaborate.

"Lucky our two minds thought alike, it'll make the process a bit easier for you." Jimmy stated, seating himself at the opposite arm of the sofa.

His comment led me to guess what he could've bought, and I quelled my curiosity by reaching for the lid of the first box.

"Jimmy- "

"No, don't say anything before you try it out. You don't have to show me if you don't want to, Y/N, I just wanted to get you something since you look so beautiful in these sorts of things."

I huffed, knowing I couldn't win against him and also knowing exactly how much "these sorts of things" cost. Maybe he had the false perception that I was fishing for gifts or money from him, not that anything was really wrong with it if we were both willing participants, but I wasn't a goddamn sugar baby. It was just a different situation and I actually wanted to be here, with or without gifts, with or without anything further than the tea.

"Jimmy, I'll try them on and all... but I really don't want anything from you. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I came here because I wanted to and really didn't expect anything."

"I know, I've dealt with all sorts of people for a long time and I can tell you're genuine." He smiled softly, pushing the boxes back towards me so I'd take them. "By the way, bathroom's right over there if you wish to change clothes privately."

My arms full with the boxes, I thanked him profusely and headed towards the door he pointed to. I switched on the light, took a deep breath, and shrugged out of the clothes I was wearing. Jimmy had packed a few sets into each box, likely trying to make it seem like he hadn't splurge as much on me as I thought. The same stupid smile from last night returned to my face as I realized those few pictures in my room really drove him to do this.

As my eyes and hands investigated each one, I noticed these fabrics were far more delicately crafted than anything I had at home. There was gold embroidery glittering faintly in the light, tiny silk ribbons, things that would easily fall apart if they were actually worn out, cool satin, crystal-encrusted edges, and so many different colors. They all somehow fit like a glove, making me believe a little more in the Dark Lord rumors. None of them were uncomfortable or restricting, just whispers of pretty fabric with gentle details gracing my skin.

I picked out three from the total ten ensembles, seeing which of them went best with the opal necklace and heels I elected to keep on. The first was a frilly white number in the style of the blouse I'd just taken off. It had quite a bit of fabric covering me and almost felt like something to wear on an unbearably hot summer day, not just something reserved for very private circumstances. I went out to catch Jimmy's reaction with a little skip in my step.

"Well?" I asked, stepping out with a spin to give him a full view.

"Oh shit, I have impeccable taste." Jimmy shook his head in cocky disbelief.

"It's so comfy, I could probably sleep in it." I said with a slight laugh at his apparent amazement.

"Alright go show me another or I'll get too impatient to let you continue." He waved me off, muttering something under his breath about this being better than 'fucking Victoria's Secret'.

The next was a silky piece in sapphire blue with sparkling crystals dotting it. Rich blue seemed to compliment my skin tone nicely and I was still astounded with how it rested so perfectly on every part of my body. As I showed off the garment to Jimmy, he almost immediately urged me to change into something else and said I looked like some deity I didn't catch the name of.

I bit back a smirk from his reaction and tried on my final choice: peachy pink fabric with peony flowers blossoming at the edges of the soft material. This one also came with a set of sheer thigh-highs and I pulled them up over my legs before strapping my shoes back onto my feet. I felt almost heavenly in this one, like a Persephone about to bring colorful spring blooms and greenery into the world after a cold snowy winter.

This rendered my audience entirely speechless and I took advantage of his silence: "Let me guess, you have impeccable taste and want me to change immediately?"

"Yeah, that's right." He slurred as if in a daze with wide eyes gazing over me.

"Well this is the last one I'll try on for now... unless it isn't doing anything for you."

"No, it's bloody doing it for me." He assured. "Come here."

I sat down beside him, earning a disappointed look and being pulled over onto his lap instantly. My legs were crossed stylishly as I reclined up against him, my head lying on his shoulder. His hands roamed up the smooth sheers then traced over the peony flowers on my hips and massaged over the fabric covering my chest. I'd never really been so utterly comfortable in so little with someone, it almost felt natural.

He stopped out of nowhere, like a thought had pulled him away: "Come with me, I'd rather not ruin this sofa before my lesser judgement takes control."

My legs uncrossed and I followed his direction, his hand seeking mine then pulling me along to a different room in this labyrinthine subfloor. I looked to him and noticed how there was something so wonderfully enigmatic about the way he carried himself and any feelings were only ever reflected in his eyes. His eyes were a whole different conversation in themselves -- such a beautiful forest green color and they were often curved into little crescent moons from his contagiously wide smiles.

He gently coaxed me down over a pile of pillows, the thick and richly woven blanket at my feet being pulled off to the side. His hands then then came to the straps of my heels, undoing them carefully and dropping then onto the floor carelessly. I felt his touch wander back up to the edge of the sheers at my thighs and pull them torturously slowly down to my ankles until they came off too. He moved on to play with the strap of the bra, but I disrupted him to unbutton his shirt in an effort to make us a little more even.

The surprise was evident in Jimmy's face when he saw how eager I was and he complied to my whims of undressing him. I planted my lips along the bared skin from his shoulder, up his neck, and up to his lips. His electric touch lingered along my back like a cage holding me close up to him. My thighs circled his hips as I moved over his lap again, only to push me down onto the sheets.

"No, I take care of you today." Jimmy insisted.

"Okay... shame I have to take these off already though." I pouted, my hands moving to my hips to slip off the fabric over them.

He caught my hand, "Who said anything about taking them off?"

"Well it's better than having them ruined so soon."

"I'm a careful man when I want to be, Y/N. Besides, I bought them so can't I do anything I wish with them?"

"I suppose so." I gave in.

His hands held apart the backsides of my thighs and pulled them up to slide me even closer towards him, like the most heavenly sin I'd ever felt. He leaned down, fingers prying me apart with the thin slit of the panties that had been covering me off to the side. His tongue ran over the exposed skin, delving deeper within me and making me already tremble. An icy shock of bliss crashed through my body while I tried desperately to remain in control of myself. My lungs heaved for air, unable to resist the gush of warmth at the peak of the climax he'd brought onto me so quickly.

I whimpered softly, letting the little aftershocks ebb and flow over me as he gave me a moment to rest. As my half-lidded eyes looked up at Jimmy, his tongue darted over his lips to clean of the glistening sheen over them. He smiled when he caught me looking up at him, a thoughtful shift over his expression as he looked down at me.

"What are you thinking Jimmy?"

"Nothing, I had an idea but I'll leave it off the table for now. Maybe next time."

"I'll hold you to it." I grinned, wrapping my legs over his hips in an effort to urge him back towards me.

"Perhaps we'll try something new in the morning if you're up for it."

"I've missed you, of course I'll be up for it."

"You sound awfully sure." He noted.

"Because I am, now get down here and let me kind of repay the favor."

"Kind of?" He muttered with interest, submitting to my pushing him down beside me.

Now I leaned over his legs, pulling away the pesky layers of clothing and leaning down to trail kisses over his chest as my hand languidly pumped his length. His own hands patted over my head as encouragement, but I didn't follow his expectation of taking him into my mouth. Instead, I straddled his hips and took one of his hands into mine while the other shifted the slot of fabric off to the side again.

He pressed his free hand up against the pit of my stomach, signalling for me to relax my tension a bit. I carefully angled my hips around and leaned my torso forward as I eased my way down onto him until I was almost at his hips. I arched my back, eyes shut as I focused on my breathing and gave myself a moment to adjust. My head was tilted back, a moan buzzing at my lips as Jimmy took in a sharp breath. He now held my thighs desperately and urged me into a slow rhythm.

I leaned forwards, holding myself up with my arms firmly rooted at Jimmy's sides as I followed along with his pace and rocked my hips along. With each beat of our rhythm I began to slightly speed up and take him even deeper. Jimmy's lips were parted and I smiled at the pretty sight, using it as my motivation to keep rolling my hips ever harder to coax him into being louder.

"Shit angel, you call this returning the favor?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yes." I assured. "For once in the car and again just now."

"Mm such a good fucking girl." He encouraged, his hands roaming from my legs up to clasp over my wrists like handcuffs.

Jimmy pulled my arms up from their posts by the wrist, clasping them together so I had to balance my position with just my curled legs and undulating torso. It was a new feeling, like I didn't have nearly as much control of myself and could feel everything so much more. Jimmy also took the chance to thrust up harder into me like a blunt stab of bliss into the exact spot that made my body writhe. I cried out and stopped myself for a moment to gather air into my lungs. Deep groans buzzed through the very base of my throat and I heard Jimmy's soft breaths from underneath me.

"Are you alright, Y/N?"

I nodded, gathering myself with a full breath and getting back into the swing of our hammering rhythm.

"Not too much for you yet?" Jimmy teased.

"Are you kidding, old man?" I jabbed back.

Taking his prod to heart, I pushed as hard as I could. Our skin vulgarly slapped together with each frantic sway and drive in sync with each other. I felt wetness painting the skin between my thighs, sweat rolling down my back, and more sweat beading at the edges of my face in the heat. The only release was through the hurried, fiery breaths pushing through my lips. I could sense the air getting thicker and hotter as I worked myself up to those final few pulses before a strong crash.

Jimmy sensed my helplessness, partially from how hard I was clenching around him as his hands released mine. He placed them over my hips to keep pushing me on further and thrusting up into me faster to bring me to the brink of madness. I was already leaning over him, the lace detailing of my gift pressed into his chest and being dragged along his skin with the pace of his hips. My frame nearly gave out with his more animalistic desperation showing, more wetness dripping down beneath me as I rested my head against Jimmy's shoulder. I cried out as the overwhelming sensation crashed over me and be kept going through the aftershocks almost painfully.

He pulled out from me suddenly, hands roughly shoving me down and giving me no time to recover as he pushed into my mouth. His hands held me in place while he fucked into my throat. I nearly swooned as Jimmy groaned darkly, his head falling back, breathy moans steaming from his parted lips. Just as I reached his tip, his hands held me sternly in place and I felt of sticky hot gushes surge into my mouth, trickling down my throat.

Jimmy released me from his grip and I slowly slipped my mouth off of him, trying not to let any of it seep out. I swallowed thickly once I sat up and wiped off my mouth with the back of my hand, finally able to catch my breath. My drained, yet electrified body leaned over to recline at his side. His calloused fingertips grazed my face in a lazy caress, his jade eyes studying my frame as though trying to memorize what he saw.

"Do you want to have dinner now?" He offered.

I let out a husky laugh, "Let's see how well I can stand up first."

"Go on then." Jimmy urged with a mischievous smile.

"No, I meant that as in 'I'm going to fall right down on the floor like Bambi if I get up now'. Give me a few minutes." I requested. "Were you like this when you were younger?"

"No, I had more stamina."

"I wouldn't have been able to keep up with you."

"Aw, my dear old maid. It's alright, you're perfect for me now though and you're a beautiful sight with my gifts on you. I think I might have to keep this one as a souvenir or token to remember you by, though."

His hands smoothed over the soft fabric of the peach-pink set, a glimmer in his mysterious eyes. I sighed in content and nuzzled my head into his side, my arm strewn across his chest. His own arm slithered along my hip and drew me in closer. A comfortable warmth surrounded us as we rested for a few minutes, the sun likely already dimming over the horizon outside. It would be a long, restless night.


	48. tiny birthday fic (robert plant x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: current!Robert Plant x reader  
> Warnings: hinted nsfw

"Happy birthday, Robert." I greeted softly, carefully carrying in a tray of breakfast dishes more lavish than usual towards him as he stirred at the sound of my voice.

"Hmm? What's that you said?" His gruff morning rasp replied while his hands rubbed sleepiness from his eyes.

I laughed lightly, "I said happy birthday. Now please sit up or I might drop this before it gets to you."

He complied to my request and yawned, pushing away stray curls from his face while blinking his vision into clarity. Robert smiled brightly once the foggy sleepiness finally faded from his mind and he quickly connected all the situational dots. I set the tray down over his lap and crawled back into the warm bed beside him, resting my chin on his shoulder to conveniently give him a peck on the cheek. He returned the gesture and kissed my forehead, the warmth of the pale golden sunshine filtering through the bedside window.

"I'm sorry you couldn't spend it with your family or friends, but I'm sure they'll call you throughout the day." I reassured, knowing how much he missed being out of the house and around people.

He smiled and brushed the side of the face, his fingers lacing through my hair. "I'm happy spendin' it with you, Y/N. An' it's not like I'm never going to see them again."

A beat passed and Robert turned his attention back at the carefully put-together tray, offering me some of his coffee even though I already ate breakfast while he slept in. He kept an arm across my back, his hand resting on my hip to keep me close. It was a peaceful morning and I smiled to myself, just feeling a simple happiness spread through me. His eyes looked down to me and he grinned, my smile apparently contagious.

"You look adorable, my dear." He crooned, swiping a finger over the tip of my nose.

I changed the subject, "Do you know what you might want to do today to celebrate?"

"Not much to do, but walkin' the grounds with Arthur at some point would be a good idea. And maybe a little dessert with my breakfast."

"Well your first idea is a regular occurrence. The second, I'm not sure why you'd want dessert after breakfast unless you were just absolutely starving today or something."

"Oh starving's an adequate word for my condition, Y/N." He flashed a barely-detectable wink with the dimples in his cheeks deepening as he grinned wider.

I rolled my eyes as I caught onto his ulterior motives, "Whatever you wish, birthday boy. Just finish up and let me take it back to the kitchen first."

"So sweet to me, this is why you're my favorite birthday present."


	49. reunited (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: current!John Paul Jones x reader  
> Warnings: self harm

request: hurt/comfort fic for current jonesy

It had been a rough day. John was bound to come home today after his round of work-related travels that pulled him from private normalcy over the past three weeks. I missed him a lot as days ticked by, his quiet presence noticeably gone and the contrastingly bright weather outside only adding a gloom over me. My lonely days were packed were packed with stressful work piling on top of itself with barely enough time to stop and decompress my stiffened muscles before passing out at night. Initially, it just felt like it was a hectic first week of working and I'd have to power through it. By the end of the second week, I could tell a different pressure mounting over my shoulders.

I knew I shouldn't have just let that one twisted part of my mind take over when I was feeling overwhelmed, but I couldn't fight it off after being drained from work, extra stressors, and missing John so much. He called me to check in and see if I was okay every few days. I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth when he sounded so excited about his news. My eyes would fixate on the dark crusted scabs and sore skin up my atm for a moment, shame washing over me as I verbally affirmed yet again that everything was alright. Lying through my teeth again.

John was coming home and earlier I'd thought to cover the marks with the long sleeves of a sweater. The day's warm sun made it almost unbearable to wear through the afternoon. But I couldn't let him see the splotched, angry webs of marks patching over my whole arm when I told him I was okay. I stayed inside the house all day to avoid the heat and tidied up anything that was slightly out of order from my bouts of sleepy negligence.

Once everything was set to rights, the nerves started to build in the pit of my stomach. My mind started dwelling over all the potential situations where he might where he might see my arm and surely say something negative about it. I wished to have an escape right then, something that would take me from this horrible cycle and free me from all of this. To fly away from this existence, besides the solace of John, or simply restart and correct whatever had gone wrong.

My mind wasn't able to fall too far into a spiral of fearful, sad thoughts, an electric jolt shooting through my chest when I heard the front door unlock and John cheering a quiet: "Hi love, I'm back."

The despair was momentarily quelled as I spend over to wrap my arms around him, burying my head against his shoulder to take in his familiar scent of lightly spiced musk swirled with something I could only describe as a mix between what old books and melted candle wax smelled like. Buried emotion swept right up behind my eyes and weaved into my chest. I missed him even more than I thought, clutching him closely for never enough time.

"Are you alright?" He questioned, seeing the glaze over my eyes.

I nodded, not daring to let my voice betray me and quiver should I give him a verbal reply.

He pulled further away, a hand still smoothing over my back. "Let's go sit down."

John could sense something was off but didn't press on the subject quite yet, only directing the two of us into the main living room so we could sit down beside each other. The air was thick with unspoken words. I ventured to ask about his work, directing his attention away from noticing the dark marks peeking out from under my sleeve. He shrugged, talking about a few business affairs he mentioned before over the phone and that he didn't have much time to sightsee. Before I could continue steering the narrative, John questioned my choice in wearing a sweater when the weather was so warm.

"I just felt a little cold and I was inside all day anyways."

His truth-seeking blue eyes lingered to my fidgety hands and something in then changed when he caught sight of what he suspected to be true.

"Y/N..." He began, unable to find the right words to address such a delicate subject.

"I know, I know." I sighed. "It's just that I had a few bad days while you were gone. My work was piling up and it was stressing me out a little."

"That's why I call you, I ask if you're okay 'cause I want you to talk to me about anything that's bothering you! You probably don't know how much it hurts to see you like this and I know it means you're hurting even more. Please talk to me."

"It's nothing, just a few bad days where I was overwhelmed." I dismissed.

He gave me a disbelieving look, "Show me your arm, or at least tell me that it was a few bad days. A bad day is when someone feels upset and unmotivated, this is only if something more is going on. I want to help you."

I was afraid again of my voice wavering if I fulfilled his request. A flush of shame threatened to crash over me if I let him see the damage he knew was there. A shaky breath filled my lungs as a prickling of tears came to the corners of my eyes. My hand reached to the sleeve and I turned my gaze away so I didn't have to see the inevitable pained, disapproving shock that would be on John's face once I rolled the fabric up to my elbow. I didn't want to have to rely on someone all the time, nor ask for help, nor have somebody's pity. But all I could do now was resist spilling the tears in my eyes onto my cheeks.

The skin was exposed to open air as I pulled up the sleeve, my body practically trembling with dread at John's reaction. I still wasn't used to this feeling of imminent rejection or scolding after partaking in this habit before. A deadly silence filled the room. I waited for him to respond as I laid myself bare to him. My heart was hammering in my ears. I wouldn't cry, just keep it in and take the goodbye or angry lecture. No need to dig myself in deeper.

"Let me get you some cream or something for that. I think there's some burn cream up here that might work." He spoke, voice steady as always.

John got up and went to the kitchen medicine cabinet. My eyes followed him. I didn't want to look down at my arm, I had to keep my façade. It was eerily strange that he hadn't gawked or gasped in criticism. He only offered his help to heal the marks.

As he sat back down beside me and carefully applied the cool concoction over my skin, he never spoke a word or let some thought cloud over his expression. My breaths grew steadier but my terrible nerves gave way to confusion. Did it really not bother him that much? Or did he just feel too pained to say anything? A despair fogged over my heart as my mind ran wild with hurtful predictions as to why he was being so unresponsive.

"You-You're not mad?" I asked after mustering up some courage.

"What's done is done, all I can do now is try to help. Getting angry at you isn't exactly helpful and it certainly won't make these scars go away. But I can offer anything else that might keep you from doing this again."

Now I couldn't hold back the tears in my eyes. No one had ever acted like this when they found out about my self harm. It was always either selfish declarations of how hurt they were or cold-hearted cut offs or angry scolding as if I didn't know what I did was bad or pretending that they didn't even see what was going on. John was calm and caring, without a shred of ego in the mix. He was right -- there was no point in dwelling on what was already done. There was just potential to change the future.

"Tell me whenever anything bothers you this much. I'll listen to you, love." He compassionately stated.

"Okay." I nodded, feeling a childish helplessness in my pain as he took care of the aftermath.

"Was it really just your work? You shouldn't stay there if it makes you feel so bad."

I sniffled, wiping the tears off my face with a shirtsleeve, "At the beginning. I missed you a lot too and maybe just went back to how I was before, since you were gone. But I don't want you to feel burdened by me being like this and- "

"No, it's not your fault at all. You're a person, not a burden. We all need help sometimes so maybe you can come along with me next time or find another way of letting out all this pain. Anything you feel comfortable with trying."

I cracked a smile with a stifled sob and pulled him into my arms with my face buried into his shirt, "I really don't know what I did to deserve you."

His hands rested over my back, smoothing over it reassuringly and holding me close for as long as I needed. My remaining tears were soaked into the fabric of his shirt and I breathed in his comforting scent. It felt so good to just be held like that and reaffirmed that told you were cared for. I actually felt a wisp of hope for the first time in weeks that things could be okay.


	50. family man headcanons (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings:none

request: "Hey ah would you be willing to write a domestic Jimmy x Fem!reader with their son/daughter?"

-at first finds it a little hard to wrap his head around the fact that the tiny baby was partially a product of himself

-very doting and careful, plus his weird sleeping patterns were helpful to tending to the baby in the wee hours of morning sometimes

-tries to coax them into speaking and absolutely adores the underdeveloped language dialect they spoke with

-strictly observes any visitors coming to see you and the baby, his protective nature in full swing

-but he was pretty trusting of his band mates who were referred to as the baby's "uncles"

-slowly walks with you and the newly-walking baby between you both, holding your hands as you roam the grounds together

-takes them along to wherever he's working on music, seating them carefully on some pillows and cushions

-talks to them as though to himself when he's trying to write something new

\- "oh no, look at daddy forgetting what he's just come up with again."

-super involved at home and loves to read stories to them before bedtime, including a few of the more light-hearted items from his personal collection

-that smile every time he makes his baby giggle or excited about something

-once they're old enough, he wants to share his love of music and offers them a variety of instruments to play around on at home

-he finds it to be a very strange experience to try teaching a kid, especially his own, to play music and understand it the way that he did as a practiced musician

-may have to consult jonesy or bonzo a little on that one

-gives them a bunch of cute pet names, to their annoyance as they get older

-misses both of you badly when he has to leave for work and tries calling as often as possible to talk


	51. tag-team (robert plant & jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant & Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw, possessiveness/manhandling

request: could you do a jimbert threesome? like the reader is in a relationship with either or while the other longs for her? thank you so much :-)

Jimmy didn’t want to admit he was a bit of the jealous type. But there wasn’t much of a chance to deny it when he could pull himself away from the slightly ajar door to some backstage room, seeing Robert with Y/N down on her knees before him during their short Moby Dick break. His blood boiled, both with an anger at them and a simultaneous desire to step between them. 

He’d fucking seen her first anyways. It was a month back and Jimmy could remember it in vivid detail: Y/N stood outside of a record shop near the venue in a pair of figure-hugging jeans and a white top, cigarette hanging from her lower lip, a pretty set of amethyst rings on her fingers. He was the one who brought her backstage only to have her stolen away by Robert. Given their little rivalry, Jimmy was pissed.

But he didn’t want to harm his bandmate in that way, torment him a little… maybe. The unintentional collateral damage Y/N and Robert’s tryst caused was enough for Jimmy to plot out a scheme for after the show, the roadies already calling them to go back on stage. The guitarist rolled his eyes as he heard Robert’s satisfied sighs and praises to Y/N, walking back through the halls with his nefarious idea in mind. 

They finished playing through the show, an aggressive energy flickering from Jimmy’s fingertips as he played his improvised solos to the audience. Robert bid their crowd a cheery goodbye and went off, clapping an arm over the guitarist’s shoulders jovially. Jimmy smirked lightly to himself, almost wishing to chuckle at the naivety of his golden-haired bandmate towards his plan to crash the night for him and Y/N. The two of them found themselves walking back to the cars awaiting them outside with Y/N, the plan coming along much easier than Jimmy hoped.

Back at the hotel, the guitarist clung to them like a shadow and refused to leave them alone under the excuse of needing to talk with Robert about something important. The singer was suspicious that maybe he was under the influence of some substance and perhaps would say a few silly things then head off to the party elsewhere. Whatever he thought, Jimmy was allowed into their room and instead of sitting down at the sofa for a discussion, seated himself aloof over the covers of the bed.

“What’re ya doin’ Pagey?” Robert crooned, stifling back a giggle.

“Staying here.” He replied simply.

“What for?” 

“I think you know exactly why.” 

Robert was quiet for a moment, the passionate energy of the crowd as well as a few other things having loosened his judgement a bit while he considered. If Jimmy wanted something, it was hard to refuse. But he honestly wasn’t too bothered by the idea, already picturing the lovely Y/N between the both of them. The singer nodded slightly and looked up to his bandmate.

“Okay by me, I’ll go ask her.” Robert decided, standing up to call Y/N back into the room.

“What’s wrong, is Jimmy okay?” She asked as she walked back in at Robert’s side.

The mentioned man grinned at her concern and how easily she was swayed to sit down between them on the bed. 

“He had a proposition for us, love. Y’see, Pagey gets a little lonely sometimes an’ well…” Robert lost the right words to guide her into the offer.

“I think I see.” She cut into his trailed off words.

“Well, what do you say, angel?” Jimmy whispered into her ear, causing her to turn as his lips pressed against her cheek.

A flush rose through Y/N and she thought of a clever response for the two men: “I won’t be much of an angel after this.”

“Oh, baby…” Robert sighed, pleased, against her other cheek.

Y/N caressed their faces, in turn planting kisses onto their lips and tugging at their clothes lightly as a signal. She squirmed at the feeling of both men leaning into her, touching her body, pulling the layers off of her, pushing her to lie back, parting her knees gently. Robert leaned up, running a devilish track of kisses up her neck to her lips. Jimmy leaned down, sucking and lapping at her like starved dog while his hands kept her thighs wide.

“J-Jimmy, shit.” She swore against Robert’s lips as she almost bucked her hips up.

“No wonder Percy stole you away, you taste so fucking sweet little girl.” Jimmy remarked, wetting his finger as he dipped into her.

Her eyes desperately looked up at Robert as Jimmy worked her open with his fingers, her hands clutching his golden locks and breathlessly whimpering under him. The singer delighted in the sight of her so close to the edge so soon, bliss evident on her face as he held onto her. She gasped sharply at Jimmy leaning his mouth back down to help his fingers along, her body writhing over the blanket. 

The guitarist pulled away just when she was on the edge and earned a dissatisfied whine from Y/N, a terrible desire for him racking through her. She nearly pounced on him, forcing her lips onto his hips as she exchanged between licking and kissing between his legs. Jimmy praised her with a barely steady voice and reached a hand to pull her closer, flashing a smug look at Robert. Y/N sensed the tension and continued her ministrations on Jimmy while reaching a hand over to the singer, pumping over his length a few times then drifting lower to fulfill his much earlier request of “squeezing his lemons”. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re doin’ so well for us.” Robert smiled lazily.

“Our little angel, Y/N.” Jimmy teased as he gazed down into her doe-eyes, her lips circling around his length.

She dragged her lips up over his tip, slipping off with a pop as Jimmy pulled her up for a sloppy kiss. Robert waited his turn from the sidelines, finding himself very happy with the decision to let this happen as he witnessed the two beauties on top of each other until they turned their attention to him. His lovely Y/N leaned down to his hips, taking him down her throat as deep as she could while Jimmy playfully swatted at her ass. 

The girl bobbed her head, swirling her tongue over his length and staring up innocently at Robert just the way that she knew drove him crazy. Y/N groaned around him as Jimmy plunged himself into her without warning, smacking her ass as he set a rough pace. Robert could feel her getting rocked up against him as her mouth continued to suck and take as much of him as she could. Buzzing moans filled her throat and a darkness shone over her glazed eyes. 

Sticky saliva dripped down her chin as Jimmy tugged her up by the back of the neck off of Robert, shoving her into the sheets to the side. Y/N turned wide-eyed to look at him in confusion. His rough, calloused fingertips dug into her thighs as he flipped her over onto her back and placed her legs up over his shoulders. Jimmy pushed back into her without giving her a moment to recover, her frame being pushed into the sheets as she tried to catch her breath. Robert only guided one of her hands to take care of him in the meantime   
then reached his own hands down to gently touch her face, neck, breasts, and torso as they convulsed with his bandmate’s almost brutal rhythm.

But then Jimmy took things a step further: “I bet Percy doesn’t fuck you like this, right Y/N?” 

Robert looked up at his haughty bandmate for that remark, knowing that he was just trying to taunt him but still feeling the rude prod at him. 

“Can’t be that good if you succumb to me so easily.” Jimmy continued, speaking through his teeth to keep his voice steady. 

It was becoming very hard for Robert not to overlook Jimmy’s comments. Y/N didn’t speak up at all, already too breathless to say anything from the guitarist’s merciless fucking.

“Jim, shut up.” Robert warned in a joking tone.

“Fuckin’ make me.” Jimmy sassed, reaching a hand down to tease Y/N harder and make her squirm under his touch. 

Now there were two options for Robert: actually make Jimmy take back his words or just sit there silently as his bandmate had his way with Y/N. He considered a plan while watching Jimmy pull out of her, work her up to release with his hands, and then lap up her wetness until it dripped down his chin. What he thought earlier to be a fun idea was now making an anger burn in the pit of his stomach. 

“Shit! Jimmy!” Y/N cried out loudly, impulsively curling her legs back towards her stomach and catching her breath while the two men remained silent in their tension. “If the both of you are gonna act like kids, I can always just leave.”

“No, we’ll let Robert have a chance to prove me wrong.” Jimmy declared coldly with a smug smile as he shifted over to Y/N’s side and urged Robert by the hip to take his place.

The bold singer gladly took up the opportunity, using two fingers to pull the puffy lips between her legs apart just before plunging into her and working at a languid pace to perfectly tease the sweet spot within her. Y/N immediately rolled her head back and clutched at the bedsheets desperately. Her hips rolled up in response to his, trying to re-angle him exactly where she wanted him and the fucked-out look on her face irresistible. Robert praised her for it, brushing a thumb over her soft parted lips then replacing his hand on her hipbone.

Jimmy decided to taunt his bandmate further, straddling Y/N’s shoulders and shoving his length into her mouth so Robert would only be able to see him rather than her pretty face. The girl vulgarly sucked at him, her hands grasping at Jimmy’s thighs for some sense of stability. She moaned, delighted, from the attention she received from both of them. Jimmy’s rugged breaths turned raspier as he grew closer to release, drawing back from her mouth and stroking himself with a fist.

“Stick your tongue out for me, Y/N.” He directed.

She complied with a laugh, hearing an exasperated Robert and feeling him get into a harder pace in response to Jimmy’s audacity. He was glad he couldn’t see Y/N’s face at that point, especially as Jimmy groaned even louder and instructed her to swallow once he was done sighing dramatically. Before he could think through it, Robert reached out to swat at Jimmy’s ass so he’d fuck off already.

“Such a good girl, I see why you keep her to yourself.” The guitarist remarked with a wicked grin as he slunk off to the side and observed them. 

Robert paid him no mind at this point but couldn’t help noticing the sticky white shit he’d left on Y/N’s face. It made him lean down and clutch her frame closely, isolating the battering movement of his hips into her. Her hands tugged at his long hair as she whimpered into his shoulder, his hands holding her body right up against his own. Y/N could feel his hot breath fanning against her skin as he kept driving into her, full of need as he finally began to release. 

His arms relaxed their strong grip on her, his pace completely halted as he arched his head back and hummed out a moan between his lips. A sheen of sweat glistened over his face and chest, a satisfied smile was etched into his expression, his hands reached out to wipe away the remnants of Jimmy’s undoing from her face. The said bandmate stood up from his seat on the side and praised Y/N, then reached over to return a spank to Robert. He plopped down on the bed beside the worn-out girl and loosely wrapped an arm over her, inviting the blond to join in as if Robert were the guest. Jimmy always got what he wanted.


	52. endometriosis headcanons (led zeppelin) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Led Zeppelin x reader with a uterus   
> Warnings: none

Request: "could you do how the boys would be with their partner with endometriosis(or really bad period cramps)? i’ve struggled for years with this this & i think it would cool to see how they would be like, if you’re unable to write that’s okay lolll thank you in advance !"

Jimmy Page  
• Okay having some semblance of knowledge of this man, he probably wouldn’t know exactly what your condition entailed until spending time with you and noticing when it affected you  
• There was an instance where you just couldn’t hide away the pain while you were sitting at home and he came back from running errands  
• Seeing you lying on the ground, curled up in a ball, crying out with tear tracks down your cheeks immediately worried Jimmy  
• “Love, what’s wrong? What’s happened?!” …and then you’ve got to explain the whole thing to him shakily as he seats himself down beside your lying form   
• Then he’d be very concerned, definitely taking you seriously, and eagerly offer to help you in any way he could  
• You’d continuously make it clear that it was chronic pain and wouldn’t really go away so there was nothing more for you to say in terms of medicines you could take or things that would otherwise help ease it away  
• Jimmy would try to stay along wherever you were in case the pain became overwhelming so he could at least physically be there for you as a form of solace through it

John Bonham  
• After a few years of dealing with the symptoms, you’ve kind of been able to tough it out most days or try to avoid going anywhere if you start feeling the pain coming back  
• But of course that doesn’t always work out because as you’re sitting in the studio with the whole band as they do one last recording for the next album, you start feeling a pang of pain out of nowhere building up until you pass out limply over the side of the sofa  
• John speeds out of the room the moment he notices you suddenly out like a light and orders everyone around to bring water or whatever else he thinks might wake you as he calls your name  
• Once you come to and the pain is just barely lighter, he makes sure you’re doing okay enough for him to re-record the song then go home immediately  
• This man’s arms are ridiculously strong so he’s carrying you out of the studio no matter how well you say you feel and only when you get to the car away from everyone else he gently asks what was going on  
• You downplay it a bit so John doesn’t get too worried over you because he’s like a big mama bear if he sees something wrong happening with the people he cares for deeply  
• “Next time this starts happening, you tell me. Don’t wait until you fuckin’ pass out, darlin’. Promise me.” He looks to you sternly until you concede

John Paul Jones  
• It’s just impossible to focus as you read over pages and pages of words because the throbbing pain at your abdomen is only getting worse after days of it being relatively okay  
• Your breathing starts getting heavier and you have to ease your way to a mildly more comfortable position, closing your eyes to try to make it go away  
• Jonesy looks over in concern, takes the papers out of your hands to set them off to the side carefully, and smooths his fingertips along the side of your face  
• “Shh, breathe and hold my hand. You’ll be okay.” He reassures, not even needing to ask you what’s going on but offering help immediately  
• Only after the pain dies down a bit does Jonesy start prodding a little at what caused the incident to understand if he could do anything for you  
• When you tell him the symptoms don’t go away and this kind of pain flares up for you between days without a cure or remedy, he admits he selfishly feels bad for having to see you being in so much pain then also being unable to do anything about it  
• Still tries to bring you chocolate or anything else he hears apparently helps with cramping, or just because it brings you comfort in the moment when you’re already feeling miserable

Robert Plant   
• When you forewarn him about your condition, he doesn’t realize exactly how this shit works and says all of the initial stupid things most people would say  
• “Are you sure? Maybe you just didn’t get enough sleep or it’s y’know… your time of the month.”  
• That is the only time you’ve really wanted to punch the man but you sucked in a breath to calmly explain your experience with it and, luckily, he was open-minded enough to consider your words unlike most people  
• He mentions at some point that Marilyn Monroe also had endometriosis?? Maybe meant as an example of fighting through the pain but given your reaction, he never brings it up again  
• After he actually witnesses you going through a particularly bad fluctuation of pain, Robert tries to keep a watchful eye over you and bring you anything to relieve it a little  
• Oddly enough, his warm hands on your stomach help a tiny bit with the terrible cramping so you don’t have to lie in a fetal position for a solid half hour   
• Robert apologizes profusely for not taking you seriously and, when the context calls for it, advocates for others to be more understanding towards people with chronic conditions including kindly pointing out how those things are also not anyone’s business


	53. wedding night (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

Request: "I know you have loads of requests, so only do this one if you really want to!! No rush!! Here it is: It’s you and Jimmy’s wedding night. You know what that means. Be creative and can I ask for it to be detailed?? You’re amazing. xx"

The semi-traditional festivities were a memory now as we were being driven far away in the limousine, the sunlight almost completely extinguished in the night sky. There was only a lingering sense of finality and rest in my heart. We arrived in the secluded new estate Jimmy had bought and had yet to show me as part of a wedding gift. It was like a castle, surrounded by forest and the quiet bubble of water signaled the presence of a river nearby. With strength I didn’t know he had, Jimmy lifted me off my feet and carried me over the threshold.  
He told me it was a new moon, the perfect timing for creating new desires and building off of the old ones. I was just happy to marry him, whether it was today, tomorrow, or the day after that. Everything inside the house was beautiful and sophisticated, though my mind wasn’t too interested in appraising the interior design at the moment. Especially not after having to hear all the dirty threats Jimmy whispered into my ear all day when there were far too many people around.  
“What are you thinking about, darling?” He inquired, placing his hand along my side and teasing sliding just a touch lower to my hip.  
“You.” I answered vaguely, stretching wider the smile that graced my face all day.  
“Though I appreciate your honesty, you could be more specific.” He grinned, green eyes almost glowing with a mysterious light.  
“Take me upstairs.” I requested.  
“As my lady wishes.” He half-bowed, taking my hand and leading me up a swirling, black iron-lined staircase to an ornate door.  
Jimmy removed a key from his pocket and used it to unlock the door, the scene reminding me of an old folk tale where something incredible was bound to happen behind that specially-detailed, hidden-away door. It opened up to a rich emerald and gold setting from a medieval king’s palace. There was detail in the design of every square centimeter of the room – woodworked curls in each corner, mosaiced patterns framing the fireplace, windows that stretched far above our heads with little black flowers tangled within the iron vines of the panes, detailed constellations painted on the ceiling. It took my breath away and distracted me with its sheer beauty.  
The touch of the snake-like arm that slithered behind my back startled me as it drew my frame nearer to Jimmy’s, our hipbones colliding with only a few layers of stifling clothes between them. His other hand firmly clasped over my shoulder, another little snare to trap me into place before him. Only the dim light of a dark, ornate chandelier over our heads illuminated the room. It had an almost ghostly white light that glowed pale over the halo of Jimmy’s black hair and that glorious green silk shirt he had underneath the sharp black blazer he wore over it for the sake of formality.  
“How do you like it?” He asked with the tiniest hint of worry in his voice.  
“It’s so elegant, but I think I’ll like it better in the daylight.”  
He pressed a victorious kiss to my cheek, “Of course. We have other matters to attend to for the moment, anyways.”  
His touch wandered over my torso and over the low neckline of the loose white dress, grasping my skin through the thin, embroidered fabric in his hands in a way that only made me wish I hadn’t worn anything at all. I swooned into his shoulder, pressing my lips to Jimmy’s neck and grazing the warm skin with my teeth. The rich, slightly sweet scent of him that I breathed in with each breath was as intoxicating as a drug. He sighed into my ear and combed his fingertips through my hair.  
Another kiss to my forehead and his hands reached back to the zipper of my dress, slowly pulling it down all the way until his hands rested just over my behind. The delicate lace sleeves on my shoulders fell down my wrists, allowing the rest of the dress to slip off my body to the floor. Now all I wore was a cream-colored set of lingerie, a rose gold wreath crowning my hair, and the pendant of rose quartz and moonstone he gave me in place of a ring. The slight hint of a smile over his face was enough to send a wave of heat rippling through me.  
“You are a goddess, Y/N. Now go lie down and let me worship you.”  
God, I nearly fawned over his grace with words; he always knew exactly what to say and how to say it. My bare feet padded over the polished stone floor towards the massive canopied bed, almost clumsily pulling myself up onto the silken sheets and looking up at him with the same racing heartbeat in my chest as when we first met eyes. He’d followed me like a shadow, sweeping my body back into his arms and lying me down towards the center of the bed with his own body like a shield over mine.  
Jimmy kissed every part of my face, even over my eyelids, making me giggle at the sensation and my smothered skin felt like it was glowing. Only after pressing a pathway down my rose-perfumed neck with his lips did he rise to catch his breath. He looked down over me as though studying a masterful painting in a museum and gently untangled the metallic wreath from my hair. This felt different than usual, like he was going to take the whole night if needed so my entire body was tended to and buzzing from the hairs on the top of my head to the tips of my toes.  
His hand felt over the lace details covering my chest, tracing the patterns on the material with a fingertip before using it to hook the straps and pull them down my shoulders. I lifted my arms as Jimmy slipped the bra up over my head, kissing the now exposed skin over my sternum and placing his palm on the pendant of my necklace. More velvet caresses down my torso, his hands latched at the sides of my panties as his lips mouthed over my thinly clothed core just long enough to make me almost buck my hips up.  
He slid right back up so we were eye-to-eye, keeping a hand resting over my hip as he paused the progression of the night for a moment: “I’m so lucky to have you all to myself, Y/N. My angel.”  
“Oh Jimmy, I love you so much and I can’t believe we’re actually married now.”  
He gave me a toothy grin, leaning down for a kiss then stripping off his elegantly pressed blazer and trousers with an aching desperation. I observed him intently when he started unbuttoning that fucking silk shirt, feeling myself perspire and my desire sail higher at the sight. The second he finished with that bottom button I dove towards him, clutching the cool material near the hem into my hands, pressing his warm chest to my own, and nipping at his neck. That shirt was a goddamn sin and he knew what it did to me.  
With a slight expression of surprise, Jimmy chuckled and pet my hair, “I knew that you’d appreciate the shirt, but I didn’t think you’d spring right into my arms.”  
I hummed into his skin and continued working on planting bruises into it, “Don’t underestimate yourself, Jimmy.”  
His reply was masked with a hiss when I took his skin between my teeth, finally seeing the blossom of a bruise contrasting against the porcelain tone. I felt his touch press into the side of my throat, pulling me away and coercing my frame down to lie against the cool sheets again. He leaned over me, still on his knees, and his matching necklace of swirled blue-green labradorite dragged over my body as he pressed another kiss to my lips.  
My finger curled around the chain of his necklace, holding him in place for a moment while I latched my legs around his hips and flipped him down under me. Now it was my turn to give him all my attention, no matter how much he protested me being on top of him. I pinned him down, rolling my hips over his while I kissed him and brushed the dark stray curls from his face. Surprisingly, he complied with my authority – only placing his hands along my thighs.  
I returned his favor and dotted my lips all over every perfect feature of his face, slowly making a little path down over his heart. My hands fisted at his unbuttoned shirt, clutching onto the smooth material like he would vanish if I let go. Only a thin layer of laced fabric separated us as I rocked my hips over his length, bringing myself the familiar warm glow of a slowly building ecstasy. Labored curses slipped between Jimmy’s parted rosy lips, encouraging me to keep going. I curled my head down like a wilting plant, my forehead resting on his chest as I continued, weakly succumbing and feeling the warm wave rush through my abdomen.  
It was then that Jimmy swiftly took back his control, using his hold on my thighs to push me down onto my back beside where he was laying before. His hands pulled off the only layer separating us before I could realize that the thin fabric was already hanging loosely off one of my ankles. I felt the instant rush of suddenly being entirely bare to the air, and of the predatory gaze fixed on me. Its owner’s calloused fingers drifted up the skin of my legs to lightly part them.  
The green-eyed panther with his mane of pitch-black hair leaned down, his rough touch digging into the backs of my legs to keep me in place. His ravenous maw worked at my unraveling, the contact of his soft lips or wet tongue against me creating a concerto of the most vulgar sounds as he went in for the kill. My own lips parted helplessly. I gasped for air as he hooked a finger or two into me only to coax more out of me. My hands clutched at the sheets and I could only bear keeping my eyes open to see Jimmy, starved and focused, with his head at my thighs.  
A ceaseless stream of Robert-like “Oh Jimmy” ‘s whimpered from my throat as the muscles in my stomach and legs tensed tight. My head fell back, my hair completely mussed by now and we’d barely begun. I hummed lowly as Jimmy sat back with a glistening chin and continued to work me with his fingers, reaching that one perfect spot he’d located long ago with easy precision. He watched with a slightly sadistic smile as he finally separated from me. I pleaded for him and he only leaned forward to press a kiss to my coiled stomach.  
“Come on, Jimmy, you’re teasing too much.”  
“Too much? Nonsense. We have until the end of time and I plan on taking every moment of it.”  
I whined in protest, pulling him closer again by the hand.  
“I wasn’t finished with the ritual, my divine Y/N, but if you’re so impatient…” He trailed off, getting back up to a kneeling position over me and removing the silk shirt from his slight frame.  
“Sorry to interrupt your course.” I smiled apologetically, mentally bracing myself at the sight of his hand pumping over his shaft in quick preparation.  
Jimmy pulled my legs over his shoulders and slowly eased his way into me, a look of bliss gradually forming across his angelic face. The same sensation washed over me and my body stiffened, already feeling like the stimulation was too much when he got into a languidly smooth rhythm, his hands roaming over my warm skin like tiny electric shocks. I rocked into his pace to chase the white hot high that I could feel building up and shooting through my veins.  
He paused to lean down and kiss me with his hands fondling over my sweat-glistened face. I cried out as he pushed harder, faster, deeper, rougher like a man possessed. His arms clutched my body into his own, trying to bring us impossibly even closer. With each heated breath, he grunted out curses intermixed with my name and filthy sweet nothings that brought me right to the edge.  
I was flipped over to lie on my stomach before I could react, too quickly deprived of a release. Jimmy repositioned me with my face pushed down against the cool sheets and hips pulled up to his, giving my ass a smack. He resumed his rough fucking with an almost brutality, his bruising fingers digging into my skin to pull me along with the pace and slam up into me hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. I could feel him pushing against my walls like the silhouette of his length was protruding through my skin. Tears that fell from my eyes and my muffled whines were soaked into the silk underneath me.  
Tremors of overwhelming pleasure shook through my tiring muscles and I was silenced as the air was knocked out of my lungs, leaving only the sinful noise of our bodies colliding and Jimmy’s filthy mouth. I tightly fisted the sheets between my hands, my lips parted as I heaved for breath and eyes shut as I lost myself in the ecstasy washing over me. He angled himself to push right against my sweet spot, making me arch and nearly disintegrate into the bed with a quiet gasp pull all the air out of my lungs.  
“You alright, darling? Or is it too much?” He paused, a hand reaching down to swipe the hair stuck to my face off to the side.  
“Don’t stop, Jimmy. Please. I’m so close.” I pleaded quietly between desperate breaths.  
“Anything for you, sweet girl.”  
He drove into me again, his arm resting over my hip as his hand fell between my legs as though he were strumming at the strings of one of his guitars in a frenzy. My muscles were tensed and I was about to collapse into the bed at any second, the tsunami wave of release finally crashing all over me as my legs nearly gave out. Jimmy continued riding out my high as he came up to his own, his warm chest curled up and necklace pressing against my back as he poured out all that was left within him into me. He kissed my shoulder and neck, humming out a moan into my skin.  
The greying glow from the windows revealed the first wisps of dawn light outside as Jimmy slowly pulled away. He reached for a towel to clean off both of our shining bodies, black curls matted to his face from sweat and a satiated smile on his pink lips. I leaned up, pulling him close for a kiss with my hand entangled within his hair and not paying mind to the sticky wetness dripping down my thighs. The smile on his face widened against my lips and I felt him chuckle when I sat back, his eyes amused at the sight of the mess at my legs.  
We threw off the dirtied sheets to be dealt with much later, lying down beside one another in a burning heat from our tryst. Jimmy traced the shape of the pendant against my chest with his finger as I observed him intently. If I wasn’t so sleepy from the day’s events, I would’ve been pressing him for more already. It was impossible to get enough of him. His arm fell to rest over my waist protectively as he drew me nearer against him, kissing my forehead and foreswearing his love unto me for the hundredth time that evening. I felt like I was glowing beside him.  
Jimmy only offered me one more comment before falling into a comfortable silence beside me: “We’ll continue this little venture tomorrow, after all this is a big house with so many rooms needing proper christening.”


	54. since i've been loving you (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader who's goth as per the request, but I didn't really put a big emphasis on it  
> Warnings: none

Request: "I was wondering if I could request something as well? A gothic sound engineer who was super shy about everything until she meets Robert Plant?"

“This is fairly unorthodox…” I commented under my breath as we set up all the recording equipment out into an open field. 

There wasn’t really anything to echo sound or mute outside noises, I didn’t understand why this freaking band was so insistent on recording things out here when it obviously wasn’t going to help much with acoustics. Maybe they were going for ambience? Then again, they’d only get birds chirping in the background and, if they were lucky, rustling leaves from trees further off in the distance should a mean wind pick up. I sighed and carried on with fulfilling this stupid request then went to sit back at the sound engineering table.

It was a bit miserable to be here this early in the morning, outside in the cold, setting up weird sound equipment, no hot coffee or tea around. Oh, and the band was late. I sat in the uncomfortable fold-out chair, shivering in my coat and growing all the grumpier with every passing minute that they still weren’t here. The other guys seemed more obviously frustrated as they paced the dew-dropped grassy field. 

I started to drift off with my head propped up by my arm, being lulled to sleep by the calming sounds of the nature around me and the warm reprieve of my coat huddled around my body. But then the rumble of a few cars coming up towards the field woke me and I sleepily turned to see if it was the client group. A few decently dressed men piled out of the cars, a particularly large and almost frightening-looking immediately approaching me.

“You the main sound engineer for us today?” He asked in a gruff tone.

“Uh, y-yes sir that’s me.” I said, standing up suddenly from my seat and flattening down the skirt of the black dress I was wearing.

“I’m Peter, the manager, so I’ll be overlooking everything. You’re gonna be working a lot with Pagey since he likes to have control over all the musical stuff and, fair warning, he’s quite picky.” He introduced then walked off.

I nodded in confusion then sat back down in my seat as the band sorted themselves out into their places and arranged their instruments as they desired, Peter standing over to the side to observe. Of course I heard of the band before and it was a huge honor for me to work with them, but there was so much I really didn’t know about them. First, which one was “Pagey”? Second, how picky is this guy? Third, would I be working with more of their previous albums’ bombastic tone or did they choose to change it up?

There wasn’t much time for me to ponder over these questions as headphones came on and I was signaled to start recording. I threw on the headphones, hit the button to get the tape rolling, sat back in my seat, and listened in to them. The guitar came in first entirely alone, almost like a steady, crying whine. Then the bass and drums came in to make the song have more of a bluesy ballad tone in the background of the introduction. There was a quiet burst of the guitar line into a melancholic, yet fierce theme for a few bars, and then came the pouting, lonesome vocals.

It was strangely hypnotic. I couldn’t pick anything specific out of the song that made it feel the way it did, it was just subtly overdramatic and soul-piercing. None of the instrumentation bashed you over the head, yet you couldn’t turn away from the sound. The vocals moaned and cried for the mean-hearted lover with so much emotion that it almost drew tears to my unblinking eyes. They cut the song off somewhere between three to four minutes, unsure of how exactly to work the bridge nor end the song but checking to see if there were any notes on the sound.

“How’s it soundin’ through the tape? D’ya think it’s missing anythin’ love?” The golden-haired singer questioned, standing back and leaning to one hip.

I pressed the mic to speak to them through the headphones after taking a deep breath, “It’s great, very understated and you could probably add another line of instrumentation into it without ruining that quality. Or I-I guess if you want it to be louder then you could double up everything.”

He turned to his bandmates, exchanging looks and a few muttered words with his bandmates. They all seemed to be fair-minded towards either idea, well until three of them directed their attention to the guitarist whose face was hidden behind a curtain of black hair. He brushed some of it away and mumbled a few words to the others, an aloofness in his posture as he addressed them. I assumed this one was “Pagey”. 

The singer turned to face me again and spoke into the mic jovially, “Alright then, love, we might add some keyboards once we get a good final recording an’ keep it ‘understated’ like ya said. Let’s do another take, yeah?”

They went over the same song for several more takes, some being scrapped from goofs or just not achieving the tone they were going for. Finally, with the hot noonday sun glowing above our head, they concluded recording the foundational track. The singer planted himself down at the seat beside me while the bassist spoke with Peter, the drummer got some water, and Pagey fiddled around on the fretboard. I remained quietly in place, ready to jump back into action at the band’s whim.

“I don’t believe we got a proper introduction with all the business goin’ on.” The singer hinted at me.

I turned to face him with a slight confusion as to why he really wanted to bother with me but shyly answered him: “I don’t think so either, my name’s Y/N.”

“That’s lovely, mine’s Robert.” He grinned. “You must be quite clever operating all these soundboards and such.”

“They’re not too hard.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“If they were so easy, we wouldn’t have to have you with us.” He pointed out. “You’re damn good at what you do, no point in trying to deny it.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” I turned away, a fiery warmth rushing up to my face.

“’Course I am. Now I should probably shut up or Pagey and Jonesy’ll get pissed at me for dragging back the schedule just to talk to a pretty little thing like you.”


	55. mysterious mr. page (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: vampire!jimmy page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: well a little creepy i guess but your standard vampire kind of thing

Request: "Hi! If you're taking requests, could you please make a one shot with Jimmy as a vampire with a female reader?"

Mr. Page was an interesting person to work for, to say the least. He was rarely ever in the shop, and when he was, his almost ghostly presence lingered around like a shadow behind me constantly. Besides all the dark leather-bound books of magick, alchemy, and whatever else lining the shelves, strange artefacts littered the free tabletop or shelf space. It was all interesting to me but if I had any questions, he would give me a sharp glare that silenced me instantly.

He was back from a tour, hovering over every single millimeter of the bookstore while I put out a new case of red wax candles. I turned to glance over my shoulder every so often, only to see my mysterious boss investigating the organization of the books. He stood in the dim evening light barely filtering in through the thick velvet curtains, a greyish-gold sheen over his visage. My stomach fluttered every time his jade gaze flitted anywhere towards me and I quickly looked away. 

“How have these been doing?” Mr. Page asked, pulling a volume of Household Gods from the shelf.

I shifted to face him and thought for a moment, “Not as well as the other Crowley books but the people who really like him seem to go for it.”

“Hmm…” He pondered to himself, “And have there been any other requests for things in the shop?”

“No, none that I can think of. I usually try to keep a list if people come looking for something and we don’t have it.” 

He sighed and scratched the back of his head, “Well thank you very much for the work you do here, Y/N. I know it’s all up to you with me gone so often and everything’s been running so smoothly under your direction.” 

The praise was very strange coming from him. I didn’t realize that Mr. Page even knew my name, maybe just through the paperwork and out of nicety. It took me aback for a few seconds as a helpless smile formed over my lips.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Page, but it’s just my job.” 

“You perform it very well. I know I can trust you with anything while I’m gone and I’m a very particular man.” He assured.

A flush rose up to my face and my eyes fell to the dark wood floor, barely even noticing that my boss was suavely approaching me until he stood only a foot away. Now he was looking directly at me. My heart beat harder in my chest, I could notice its rhythm pounding from my head to my feet. I was very glad the shop was empty besides the two of us.   
He placed a hand at the side of my face, turning my attention back to him and holding my chin so I couldn’t look away. This was becoming odder by the minute, but I couldn’t stop him. Something made me want this to continue, for him to get even closer and maybe even close the gap between us. But I tried fighting away the impulse. He was my employer, he probably did this to everyone, and he was exhausted from a months-long tour. 

“M-Mr. Page…?” I trailed off, noticing him leaning in as though he somehow read my mind.

“Hush, darling.” He mumbled, lips just barely grazing mine and his eyes smug. 

I felt like I couldn’t move nor look away, not that I wanted to, and could practically feel the soft press of his lips on mine. He roped an arm over my hips until our bodies leaned against each other. My mind felt completely clear of thoughts as my heart went wild, only knowing that I wanted him to keep going.

Finally, he kissed me properly with his hands pulling me impossibly closer. My frame tensed for a second, then everything relaxed, and I melted into him. It was like a warm glow of a candle’s light burning through me. His touch lingered from my hips down to the curve of my ass, pulling me up to feel a bulge our clothes. A flutter ran through my chest and abdomen, only making my desire for him turn a lot less innocent.

He drew back as slowly as he’d leaned in, “That’s only a little taste of my gratitude for everything you do for me.” 

“You really don’t need to- ”

“No, I do. So good and obedient for me, I only wonder if those traits carry on outside of work.” He winked, tilting his head to the side and feathering his lips over my neck. 

The sensation paired with his words made me nearly quiver in want. His teeth began to graze across my skin, but they felt sharper than I imagined. More adrenaline pulsed into my bloodstream. My breath was caught in my lungs when I felt his teeth bite into my skin, the two sharper points sinking through the surface and causing a wetness to drip down to my collarbones. I froze in place, trying to move but finding myself unable to lift a finger.

He drew back and my body was still immobile. His one hand still rested over my ass while the other came up to wipe over his lips, a crimson red stain over his pale skin. Panic shot through my body when I saw a deep garnet red wetness smothered over his mouth and down his chin. My heart stood still as Mr. Page came closer, guiding my body to lay down into his arms just before he lifted me up. With a swipe of his hand over my eyes, the world went black and he carried me off.


	56. sharp-dressed man (mick jagger x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mick Jagger x fem!reader, but cross-dressing  
> Warnings: nsfw

Request: "I recently read that Mick J used to have parties where all the guests would come dressed in clothes of the opposite sex, and I can’t get the idea out of my head of Mick hosting one that you attend and it leads to sex that is more than a little kinky (basically Mick J and reader crossdressing; you don’t have to do it if you don’t want I know it’s a bit weird)"

I heard through my luckier friends that Mick liked to cross-dress for his parties and I didn’t think that his costumes were much of anything besides throwing on a cheap wig with an ill-fitting skirt, but I was proven completely wrong. While most of his guests followed that stereotype, Mick looked like one of the beautiful groupies that would chase him around during tours. He styled his long chestnut hair, donned a colorful paisley minidress, added a fur jacket, accessorized with some kitschy jewelry, put on a little makeup around his vivid blue eyes, and strutted around in platform heels. 

The crowd whooped and cheered as he made a grand appearance at his own party, only encouraging his brash persona further. He posed for a few photos, grabbed a drink, then swirled through the clumps of people to mingle with his guests. I spoke with some of the quieter partygoers, not feeling brave enough for the moment to go talk to the wannabe Keith Moon entertaining people with chaotic behavior. 

As I stood off to the side with a drink while gathering some confidence, a surprisingly large number of guests came up to compliment my costume. I hadn’t done much with my hair or makeup but dressed myself in a tailored suit and a pair of heeled oxfords, not bothering to a put a shirt on underneath the suit’s sharp blazer. It was very freeing and didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, I was thankful that I didn’t have to spend the whole night wearing a damn bra. 

There was a tap on my shoulder, so I turned around. Oddly enough, it was the man of the evening standing at my side and offering me to come dance with him as some Doors song came on over the speakers. I was flattered at him noticing me and gladly took Mick’s hand with a playful smile. His touch lingered down to the curve of my back as he pressed me in closer to him, the other hand caressing my cheek. 

“What’s your name, love?” He asked, flashing me a welcoming smile.

“Y/N.” 

“Pretty as you are.” He complimented, brushing a fingertip over my nose. 

“You’re the one who looks ‘pretty’ in that outfit.” I joked.

Mick posed dramatically as he responded: “Oh, do I? Hadn’t noticed, but thank you honey.”

I chuckled, spinning him around with my arm and giving him a chance to twirl around in the loose dress to the song. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, leaning his backside right up against my front as he twirled right into me. Only then did I notice he went to the lengths of putting on some cheap flowery perfume to complete his groupie character.  
“You really go all out with this cross-dressing thing, huh?” I remarked in amusement.

“Of course, it’s my party and might as well take up the chance to dress like this. Besides, you took the theme quite seriously yourself.” He pointed out. 

“True. Although I don’t know many men who wouldn’t wear a button-up shirt underneath a suit blazer like this.” 

“And I’m glad you didn’t.” He confessed, tracing a finger down from my collarbones to my sternum provocatively.

I gave him a playful warning look, “What are you playing at, Mr. Jagger?”

The brunet took my hand and pressed his lips to the knuckles, “I think you can guess, Y/N. You seem like a smart girl.”

“Hmm… but what if I want to confirm my suspicions?” 

“If you want me to be blunter, come upstairs and we’ll hide away from all these people. Unless you’d like to give them a show.” He offered with an extended hand. 

I took it with a wicked smile and followed his lead up the swirling staircase as very tipsy people greeted both of us on our ascent. The house smelled sharply of alcohol and there was no end to the noise: throbbing music in the speakers, people laughing or talking loudly, some guests hollering along with the lyrics, glass bottles shattering, heels clacking over the floor, thuds of people crashing out. 

It was all slowly fading away as Mick brought me up to the third level and down a long hallway, shutting the door behind us so all that was left to hear were either terribly loud shrieks or thumping basslines of the songs playing downstairs. There in the dark room, only illuminated by moonlight and a little bit of the outside lights, he approached me with far more brashness even than when we were downstairs. His hands reached to unbutton my blazer and push the two sides apart as I merely watched him with a prodding smile.  
He traced a finger over the exposed curve of my breasts, a hazy smirk on his lips. Mick now seated himself at the foot of the bed, pulling me over by the hand while his lips pressed over my collarbones and slowly trailed downwards, leaving faint marks along the way. I could feel his touch smoothing over my waist and pulling me closer, his pink-tinted kisses lingering to my stomach then right over the edge of my trousers. He dragged a hand around my side to the in-seam, roughly rubbing through the fabric between my legs until I sharply drew his hand away.

Mick looked a little confused until I remarked: “Not fair I get all the attention.” 

The grin on his face widened as I ruffled a hand into his well-styled hair and pushed him down onto the sheets, pulling the hem of the loose skirt up to his chest. My one hand reached out to palm him through the nude tights he was wearing, the other playing with the daisy choker around his neck. He chuckled darkly at my eagerness and encouraged me to go on. 

I grasped at the thin sheer material of the tights over his hipbones and tore it apart, eliciting a “fuck yes” from Mick. As my eyes stared at him provocatively, my tongue ran along the backside of his freed length as my hand encircled the base. I bobbed my head over him a few times, slipping my mouth right off before I could be too generous with him. He pulled off the jacket and dress quickly as I stood back up, a pleading look in his kohl-lined eyes.

“Be a good sport, Y/N.” Mick implored.

“Convince me.” I countered.

“Get down here then, honey.”

He took me by the wrist and pulled me down beside him, shifting to climb over me then pull the trousers off my hips. His lips, now almost completely devoid of pink lipstick, pressed along my hipbones and moved lower towards the tops of my thighs. Mick pressed a finger into me, curling it around to seek out my sensitive spot until I writhed into his hand. I nearly bucked my hips up when I felt his tongue running right above his finger and his mouth sucking at me. His other hand came up to rub rough circles into the sensitive skin and drive me closer to a high. Even as I gave out and hummed in pleasure of the warm feeling, he kept lapping at the slick dripping out of me then finally pulled back.  
“Was that good enough for you, Y/N?” He asked, lips now covered in a wet sheen.

“Mm, I think so.” I decided and sat up.

With a victorious smile, Mick lied down beside me again and placed his hands behind his head in a reclined position. An idea popped into my head so instead of just shifting over to crouch between his thighs, I leaned over his frame so my head faced his legs while my rear perched just over his face. That way he could return the favor simultaneously.   
Mick eagerly grasped my hips and pulled them back closer towards his mouth while I took him into mine again, my hands splayed over his thighs for stability. I hummed as he ate me out while I slowly lowered myself further and further down his length until my chin almost rested on his pelvic bone. Mick tested me a bit further, lightly rocking his hips up until I choked and had to back off him. Once I started bobbing my head over his tip again, he continued the motion to fuck my throat and pulled my ass lower towards his mouth. He pushed me away when he was dangerously close, surprisingly strong as I landed off to the side and looked back at him as he commanded me to get on top of him. 

I swung my leg over his hips then used a hand to position his tip into me before sinking down slowly, watching his eyes observe me with the utmost focus. His long hair splayed out around his face as he tilted his head back when I began to rock my hips languidly over him. Mick reached out his hands, grazing them down my partially blazer-covered torso and then around to squeeze at my ass while I kept riding him. I leaned back, letting my hips roll forward and the sides of the blazer slip back so he could get a fuller view of my bare frame. 

“Fuck yeah, Y/N, jus’ like that.” He slurred out between deeper groans, trying to pull me up into a faster rhythm with his hands. 

“Pillow princess.” I teased.

“Jus’ ‘cause I wore a dress and makeup?”

“No, ‘cause I’m doing all the work.”

He got the message, shifting his hands up to my waist then flipping us over so I now lied beneath him. The blazer fell lower off my shoulders, exposing my whole torso to him as I smiled at him in pleasant surprise. Mick caressed my face gently just before starting to fuck me rough enough to make me cry out and almost pull my legs up to my chest had he not caught them. He chuckled breathily as his hips hammered against mine and my lips parted helplessly. 

“Who’s the princess now?” He jeered, seeing my eyes nearly roll back and my back arch up towards him.

I didn’t have air in my lungs to respond between gasping for breath and letting out moans, merely letting him take control as my body was pushed along with his rhythm. He angled himself to hit that spot he’d found earlier, rendering me weak with every stroke. As he sputtered out with his last few thrusts into me, Mick leaned over me, pushing himself deeper, and pressing a kiss to my sweaty forehead. I gave out as his hand teased me up into the crest of a release, circling around until my thighs nearly shook. 

Mick pressed his lips against my ear and between heavy breaths muttered: “Fuck, honey, you’re not going anywhere for a while.”

I smiled as I leaned up to kiss his cheek, feeling a pool of warmth in my stomach, “Good.”


	57. the new yardbirds (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: late-60s Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: none

Request: "since your requests are open {sorry if not} , could you write some fluff with late 60s jimmy?"

The sky was a bright blue with fluffy clouds like tufted cotton balls dotting it. Jimmy and I laid side-by-side near the riverbank on a faded patterned blanket, one of his guitars carefully placed off to the side. It was peaceful enough to fall asleep as the water rushed quietly in the background of the birds chirping and Jimmy’s humming. He had played for me earlier while I was twisting together the stems of nearby flowers and making him a tiny crown of wildflowers. 

“What’s that song you’re humming?” I asked, nuzzling my head into his shoulder.

“Oh, just something I’ve been working on but I’m not sure what to do with it. It doesn’t really suit the Yardbirds kind of music and I’m not putting out another song by myself.” 

“Why not? Your voice is lovely.”

“I’m no good with words and you’re the only one who thinks so about my singing.”

“You’re just being humble, Jimmy. And maybe you should form your own group if you want to try some other type of music. You said yourself the Yardbirds were sort of drifting apart.”

He was quiet for a moment in consideration. I looked up at him curiously, wondering if I could read his thoughts from his thoughtful expression. His eyes shifted down to me, noticing that I’d turned my attention to him and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead with a smile. I sat up slightly, playing with Jimmy’s now shoulder-length hair and admiring the happy look on his face. 

As I studied him, Jimmy stayed still and looked right back at me. The jade color of his eyes and the soft pink of his lips nearly made me melt. There was something so delicate about his features reminiscent of those figures in beautiful old portraits. I noticed a subtle wave to his black hair now that he finally stopped cutting it so short. His cheeks were slightly flushed at my stare. 

I drew a hand to the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him lightly, only for his hands to pull me right back in. It was like the warm glow of a summer’s sun shone into my skin underneath his cold fingertips and soft lips. My heart swelled as he leaned further over me, urging me to lie my head down beneath him as his hand graced the side of my face. Jimmy looked with utter adoration in his eyes and a kind smile. 

“I think I might take your advice, and no matter what, I’ll have you with me.” He decided.


	58. private lesson (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x fem!reader who's a young musician  
> Warnings: nsfw and I kinda strayed off the request a little

Request: "some older jimmy smut please? reader is a female young musician and is visiting England, they meet at the theater and hit it off, talking about music and art and such things. you decide where they do it..."

I was walking through the street after finishing my private session with my music instructor, the craziness of my life’s changes stewing in my mind. It was only a week and a half ago that I landed here, in London, away from everyone I knew, and began studying music in more depth than I ever thought possible. My brain would always feel oddly numb after concluding a class and realizing things I never knew. I made it back home to my flat, whipped up a quick dinner, and flipped through my agenda of work to do. It was a bit lonely, but I was just happy to have the opportunity to live here.

As I was going off to bed, I remembered that my professor mentioned something about a guest coming over to the session tomorrow evening. It was an interesting thought and I couldn’t help but get my hopes up, knowing that it was probably just a different professor coming to tutor me. I drifted off the sleep fantasizing a little about the event, bringing myself mental company in my lonely state.

The class day passed by slowly as I attended lectures, took notes, added things to my schedule, rushed off between buildings, and wasted a few hours before my private session. I spent the free time studying at a nearby student café with a light lunch I could eat while getting some work out of the way. Quiet, jazzy music played from some speakers above and it mingled with the emphatic conversations of people around me. It was a peaceful chaos in the background as I typed away at an assignment discussing elements of traditional blues. 

My eyes flickered down to the clock on my laptop and I panicked, realizing the leisurely 15-minute walk up to the third-floor practice rooms would have to become a quick jog since I only had 9 minutes to get there now. I hurriedly collected my belongings into my bag, cleaned up my table, and rushed off. My heart was already beating quickly at the guilt of being late, especially as a guest was expecting me. It was reassuring to see other students speeding off too though.

I ripped open the doorway of the building and continued shuffling over the smooth linoleum. My feet skipped over the stairwell two steps at a time. I was already feeling breathless and my body was heated. My need to run now made me curse the autumnal sweater I was wearing. At least I only had one more floor to get up to.  
After making it up to the third floor, I breathed a tiny breath of relief then continued my race down the hallway and tried desperately not to slip on the smooth floor. My hand grasped at the practice room door and I burst inside, trying to calm the heaving of my lungs as I walked towards my professor. His guest faced his back to me, silvery hair tied into a ponytail and dressed sharply from head to toe. 

“I’m so sorry for being late, thank you for waiting on me.” I blurted as I came up to my usual seat.

“No problem, love.” The guest assured in a soft, kind voice.

“Ah, we’re doing things a bit differently today Y/N. You’ve been invited along to a more immersive class by my guest. This is Jimmy, you may recognize him.” My professor piped up as I seated myself and looked up to the both of them.

“Nice to meet y-“ I paused for half a second as realization dawned on me. “You… I’m Y/N.” 

I could feel a flush up on my cheeks and my racing heartbeat suddenly froze. Holy goddamn shit. If I’d have known who this guest was, I would certainly not have been late nor dress so plainly. One of the absolute best guitarists in the world was sitting in a shitty overheated practice room with me. He gave me a shining smile and I thought I must be in some sort of realistic dream. 

“The pleasure’s all mine. Now, I’m not one for lecturing so I had an idea to take you out to a show for the evening. You’ve been in lectures all day so might as well change things up. Well, only if you’d like to.” He explained.

This was most certainly not a disappointment to my fantasies last night – it was much better. I wasn’t even thinking as I accepted his offer and looked eagerly towards him. My professor chuckled at my very apparent excitement but expressed her delight that for things working out so wonderfully. Jimmy informed me that the show wouldn’t start until 7:30, so I could have time to drop off my class materials and still meet him in time to go to the show. 

“Oh that would be perfect, should I meet you there?” I asked.

“No, no, I can have you picked up in my car with me. Just be ready by 6:45 so we can get in early.” 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Page, it’s an honor.” 

He gave a look with a quirked brow to my professor and reaffirmed his plan with me before dismissing me. I thanked my professor profusely as I left the room with all my things, practically rushing down to get to my flat. This time excitement was fueling me and my racing thoughts for how one goes about dressing for an evening out with Jimmy fucking Page. 

I haphazardly put away my class materials and ripped open the closet, standing silently in thought while my eyes scanned over each of the hangers’ contents. There were a few sophisticated articles of clothing tucked over to the one side, but I feared that would be a little over the top for the evening. Nothing seemed to strike my fancy as I rifled past each option. It was beginning to frustrate me a little, knowing that time was just ticking away and I hadn’t even gotten started yet. 

Finally, I went for a decently elegant and professional looking dress then dashed into the bathroom. I plugged my phone to charge in the outlet while it played some music quietly as I continued my process of getting ready. It was good to keep the phone around for the sake of time and in case I got a message about something important. Styling the last details of my look for the evening, I gave myself a quick check in the mirror and took myself, with the phone, out of the bathroom.

There was still a little over an hour left before he’d pick me up so I made myself some tea and sat down to watch something off my laptop. It was a good method of distracting my mind from just thinking endlessly about my plans later that night. Apparently too well of a job, as I nearly jumped at the sound of a knock after that hour passed by in what felt like a mere five minutes.

“Oh, hi Mr. Page. Can I offer you anything at all?” I asked, trying my best to sound friendly and neither too aloof nor too fanatical.

“Maybe next time, we’ve got to get going now.” He smiled, gesturing for me to join him.

I hurriedly locked the door and turned over to follow Jimmy into the car waiting for us. As genteelly as I expected, he held the door open for me and let me slip past on the backseat before he piled in beside me. The sleek car quietly drove off down the London streets, no music playing from the speakers to keep my mind at bay from how excited I was feeling. 

A hand brushed just over my knee and I turned to Jimmy with a flush rising up through me, an inquiring look on my face. 

“I forgot to mention it earlier, but you look lovely Y/N.” He complimented with sincerity in his eyes.

“Oh, thank you Mr. Page. And thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.”

“You’re right, I didn’t have to. I wanted to since I was told you were a very promising musician and I can see myself in you.”

His words were perfect, as if following the script to an old, golden age Hollywood romance film that made you swoon with each sentence. Jimmy’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he flashed a smile at rendering me speechless. There was almost a smugness in the quirk of his brows for a moment too. It felt like the veins under my skin were fuses and had just been sparked by a lighter. I was in trouble.

“Ah, there’s the theatre.” He turned to the driver, “Drop us off here and the performance should be over in about three hours.”

The driver nodded and followed his direction, Jimmy grabbed my hand then led me out to the sidewalk theatre front. A velvet rope-framed queue was already growing by the minute down one side of the building. As the few people towards the front recognized the famed musician, their chatter grew louder and a few even cheered out a greeting to him. Jimmy gave them a wave of recognition and headed inside the theatre doors, me trailing along behind him. I felt a secondhand discomfort from being familiar to complete strangers as I followed Jimmy down the gilded hallways. 

There were little chips in the ornate details of the gold along the ceiling, a few tiny crystals missing from the grand chandeliers, threads hanging off the embroidered ends of the thick red velvet curtains. We walked up a flight of polished hardwood steps cloaked down the middle with a matching, age-stained velvet. Jimmy offered me his hand up at the top of the stairs, guiding me off to the side and pulling back one side of a velvety curtain to reveal our seats in an elaborately designed theatre box. 

I sat down beside him and couldn’t help but look down below at the lower seats, across to the boxes opposite ours, the stage, the ceiling. Every corner shined with a golden coating, the dimmed but massive chandelier hung way above our heads, designs were carved into the dark wood surrounding the framing of the stage, and the orchestra pit was empty. It was like a dream to be able to see this without people all over the place and emotion-sweeping music to distract your senses from the magnificent sight.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Y/N, is something wrong?”

His soft voice managed to startle me and I turned to give him a shake of my head as well as a bashful smile, “Not at all. This is all so beautiful, and I can’t believe I’m seeing all of this.”

“Do you study art too?” 

“I wish I had the time to, I still have to complete a few general requirements but classes like literature and music take up the rest of my time. I’d love to learn more about it.” 

“You’re lucky that’s exactly what I studied.”

“Then you’ll have to teach me, Mr. Page.” 

The smug shine reappeared in his eyes after I made my reply and he cleared his throat, “Have you seen Faust before?”

“No, I can tell you it was composed by Gounod in the Romantic era, a little bit of the storyline, and that it’s in French.” 

“Do you know French?”

“A few things here and there. Do you?”

“Yeah, I can speak it. Not as well as I used to but I still understand practically all of it. I can translate things for you if you like.” 

I smiled, “Okay. But first, tell me something in French.”

“Hm, maybe later.” He winked and sat back in his seat as people started to file into the rest of the theatre.

I bit back a grin then followed his gaze down to the stage. Maybe he was just being very generous to me and I was reading too much into it, but something in my mind made me think he was flirting. But that was ridiculous, right? He only met me a few hours ago and I was invited out for purely educational reasons since my professor was the one who introduced us. He probably just had a very friendly nature.

The orchestra filed into the pit and started playing the overture, making me turn momentarily in excitement. Jimmy returned my smile, and that’s when I noticed that the rest of the box was empty while the rest of the theatre’s seats were packed full.

“Wow, is no one else going to sit with us?” I commented to myself.

“No, love, I bought out the box so I could talk without disrupting the show for anyone else. After all, we did come here to discuss the music and analyze it a bit.” 

I opened my mouth to thank him profusely yet again, only he shushed me and pointed towards the stage. The first scene opened to a depressed, middle-aged Faust lamenting at his age and blaming it for stopping him from wooing the beautiful young Marguerite. As he asks for guidance, the devil appears and offers him anything he wants on earth in exchange for Faust’s services in hell. The goblet of poison in his hands becomes a youth potion, which turns him only a bit older than his beloved.

At the end of each song, Jimmy summarized the translation for them so I could understand exactly what was going on. Faust endlessly pursues his flowery love as she refuses him out of modesty, only making him want her more. The next half revolves around Faust asking his powerful accomplice to bring beautiful gifts for impressing Marguerite with and she finally calls him to her upon seeing the glittering jewels.

“He feels tortured because she’s not giving him an answer on whether she loves him or not. Instead, she’s picking a daisy and plucking off the petals playing loves-me/loves-me-not. She’s getting to the last petal… and he loves her… Faust asks her to believe the flower... and they’re singing about being eternally drunk with love.” Jimmy explained quietly, pausing as the scene unfolded before us.

“Poor Marguerite.” I commented as the curtains came down to change the stage for the next scene.

“Just for being romanced by an old man who would do anything for her?”

“Well, not when you put it that way.” I rolled my eyes, almost sensing him coming onto me again.

“Then why’s it so bad, love?”

“She’s being deceived by him because he’s got the devil on his side to help him win her over. And he seems obsessed with her.”

“He is foolhardy for that, yes. But using the devil seemed his only option as it was the only thing that gave him hope and kept him alive.”

I nodded in consideration, “I guess so. At least they didn’t make Marguerite like a typical female character who’s either innocent then completely heartbroken by some idiot guy, or a temptress who’s evil for doing the same thing the men are heralded for.”  
Jimmy smiled, “You have a point there – Marguerite chooses to stay with Faust or leave him. And I’ll spoil it to tell you she stays with him for a little while, sleeps with him actually.”  
My eyes flickered to his immediately, but I stayed silent as a prod for him to continue.

“You’ll see how the rest of the story plays out. But I’ll tell you, Faust clearly didn’t know what he was getting into playing with all those supernatural powers.”

“And you would?” I bantered.

He scoffed, “Well I wouldn’t use them to try winning a person over. It never works out the way you want because it’s far more complicated than throwing gifts at them and sleeping with them.”

“Oh really?” I inquired sarcastically.

“Of course, there’s a lot more… at play.” His tone was countered, steady, and I felt his hand over my own as it grazed over my skin and inched down to the top of my thigh as he continued: “Have to take things slowly until it’s just unbearable.”

I was nearly quivering at his touch that tickled featherlight over my clothes. My wide eyes were focused on him and I felt much more sympathetic to Marguerite than I thought I would be. But I didn’t refuse him out of modesty, there was no point in being modest in an otherwise vacant theatre box while everyone’s attention was on the trilling singers below. Instead, I prodded him to go further.

“You’re very lucky I can keep quiet for a while.” 

And that was all the encouragement he needed to linger his hand down under the hem of my dress, looking up to me for permission as the show continued on. I nodded subtly and his touch went up, trailing over the waistband of my panties in the most tantalizing way possible. Not rushing right into it but following his words in taking things slowly enough to make me want to beg him to keep going. I nearly squirmed in the upholstered seat as his finger pressed down to tease me. My eyes turned to him and my mouth fell open, feeling that finger rub into my skin then down to pulse in and out of me. 

He added another finger while one from his other hand came up to his lips, to remind me to be quiet. My breaths were caught in my chest and building into a hushed cry, the opera singing coming into a crescendo to cover up my own voice. Jimmy was drinking up every ounce of my despairing look, begging for release to wash over me before I couldn’t hold my voice back anymore. 

“Aww…” He mewled quietly. “Beg for it, darling.”

“Jimmy, please. Please- shit!” I whispered shakily under my breath, his thumb stroking me along to the brink of madness. 

Gasps racked through my chest and electric flutters rose up my abdomen. God, it felt so fucking good. I could barely breathe nor stay still in my seat. The coil in my stomach tightened further and impossibly further, tormenting me at the crest of a wave until I couldn’t hold myself together. Only then did Jimmy drive on faster, allowing the tidal wave to crash over my senses and I crumpled into my seat as he withdrew.

My flustered breaths were the only thing I could hear, the opera below slowly fading into my hearing as witches and angels danced around the stage – a meeting of heaven and hell. Faust observed his beloved Marguerite’s curse being lifted as she prayed for forgiveness and ascended with the angels, leaving him alone with the devil. I glanced back at Jimmy, who was smirking at how perfect his selection of entertainment for the night seemed to line up with his more nefarious ideas. 

Applause sounded at the end of the opera as cast members stepped out from the wings to take their bows, but it was drowned out from my attention the minute Jimmy spoke: “Would you like to come home with me?”

I tried to hide the yearning look in my eyes as I looked to him and whispered without a doubt in my mind: “Please.”

A dark chuckle fell from his lips as he brought the tips of his glistening fingertips to his mouth to clean them off, offering me his other hand to stand up. I gladly took it, smoothing down my clothes and following him out the hallways before other people could notice him. Jimmy’s car waited outside for us and my heartbeat raced once again, knowing that we’d be headed off to recreate a new version of the opera – the devil absent this time around.


	59. surprise (john paul jones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: john paul jones x fem!reader  
> warnings: nsfw

request: "hey! i was wondering if you could write some jonesy x fem(very submissive)reader:)) it would be cool if he was super kinky n rough, but he’s still somewhat sweet in a hotel. thankssss !!"

The lit Tiffany lamp cast a warm yellow-turquoise glow over the bedroom as I reclined back on the hotel bed, half-asleep with a fluffy blanket coddling me when I was supposed to be finishing the fourth chapter of my book. An emptied wine glass was perched on the nightstand while the tv channel played some soft piano concertos or something. I should’ve seen this coming, but I was too sleepy from my flight here to surprise Jonesy.

The hazy sleepiness wore off the minute I heard some shuffling from the doorway. I bolted up, afraid that someone was breaking in even though it was unlikely in hindsight. But then my jolting worries were soothed when I heard Jonesy’s voice bidding everyone a whooped goodnight and earning cheers in response. I sat up in bed, placed my book off to the side, and eagerly looked over in the bassist’s direction.

He was smiling wearily as he came through the hall, likely tired out a bit from the concert that night and the indulgent parties that came afterwards. After ruffling a hand through his soft hair, Jonesy froze when he noticed a figure already on his bed. I saw realization slowly dawn on his face, the smile growing wider as he came towards me with his arms outstretched to me. 

“Holy shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?!” He cheered happily, all of a sudden much more energized at this late hour. 

I felt his arms around me, the months of yearning dissolving into thin air when I could breathe in his slightly sweaty scent and be surrounded by his warmth. Jonesy leaned into me against my expectations, pressing my body down to lie beneath him and finally kissing me softly. I literally dreamt of this moment endlessly for weeks, since that day that G said he could get me over here for the last few shows of the tour. 

Jonesy drew back, “How long are you staying?”

“Until the end of the tour.” 

“Damn, remind me to thank Peter at some point.” He noted, pressing a chaste kiss to my neck. 

“Did you have a good show tonight?” 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter when this show is about to begin.” He taunted, his hand pulling the end of my t-shirt up my torso.

Once the shirt was discarded to the side, a spotted path was pressed into my skin by Jonesy’s lips from my lips down to my stomach. It felt like warm flowers were blossoming under every single one of his touches. He pulled back with a critiquing look to my shorts, a barrier in his path to where he really wanted his mouth to be. But a different idea made Jonesy completely move off of me.

I followed his movement with my eyes curiously and assumed he’d find some “funny-smelling cigarettes” from his luggage to make the experience a bit more enjoyable for us. He did reach for his luggage and opened it up, so I pulled myself up with my back against the headboard. But when Jonesy shut the lid of the suitcase, a set of handcuffs were hanging off his finger. My pulse raced icily through my veins and a smile curled over my lips. 

“Jimmy told me where to find some, what do you think?”

“Fuck yes.” I pleaded under my breath, shifting around with my hands behind my back so John could put them on already. 

Jonesy pinned my wrists together with a click and I began turning to face him, only to be gruffly pushed over so I lied face-down in the pillows. His hands pressed into my sides, hooking the belt loops of my shorts around the knuckles of his fingers to brashly pull them down to my ankles. A wave of arousal tingled up through my legs and I sighed in pleasure, knowing that I would enjoy every moment of this. 

I was completely bare now and somehow feeling even hotter than before. There was a tingling sensation up my back, knowing I was under John’s watchful, navy blue-eyed gaze. His hands smoothed over the backs of my legs, grasping at my thighs and squeezing my ass until I was squirming. With one hand he lifted up my bound wrists and used the other to sharply spank me sporadically enough to make me jump each time.

Electric shocks stung through my flesh, already having counted at least thirty strikes and each one numbing me up at this point. But I couldn’t wriggle away with my arms pinned back and hoisted up. Lucky for me, Jonesy seemed to read my mind as his hands slipped down to gently part my thighs. His fingers probed into my skin, spreading me open to get a peek at the glistening wetness I could feel dripping down me.

“Such a needy little girl, I can tell you’ve missed me.” His crooning voice remarked.

“Jooooohhhhhnnn, please stop teasing.” I whined into the pillows.

“Ah-ah… who’s in charge?"

“You.” I pouted, despite knowing he couldn’t see my expression.

“That’s exactly right and since you’re being so good, I’ll be nice.”

I squirmed under him, trying to bring any sort of encouragement for him to stop beating around the bush or bring relief for myself as I grew more desperate by the minute. He grazed a hand mockingly along my cheek and down to my shoulder, slowly slithering his way to my hips again. A curling, smoky sensation pressed through my stomach as I leaned into his touch. 

The bed dipped my body lower as he straddled my thighs, placing both hands along my hips and then delving them into my skin that had been pressed to the cool sheets this whole time. He folded me up to my knees and ran his hands down the V of my abdomen, never quite reaching low enough for me. I arched my back, rocking very slightly in the facedown position, turning to look at him in a plea with my rear up to his face. A demeaning smirk cocked at his lips as they pressed wetly against the numbed flesh, and his hands reached to peel off his remaining clothing.

John yanked my frame up against his as he whispered haughtily into my ear, “I’ve been waiting to fuck you for the last three months. Now I finally get to do it, baby.”

There was a familiar prod smoothing along the ridge between my legs like a not-so-gentle reminder of his promise. I was nearly quivering against his chest and hands, my breaths racking through my frame as I impatiently waited for John to carry out his threat. A kiss pressed to my shoulder, a distraction and brace just before he pushed into me.   
My breath was caught in my lungs and satisfaction warmed my veins. I missed John badly and this was most definitely part of the reason. The race of my heart, the fire from his fingertips on my skin, the constant need for air as he drew it out of me, the greed for more building in the pit of my stomach, the beads of sweat gathering along my forehead, that perfect feeling of ecstasy when he would slip his hand down between my legs or hit just the right spot. 

He pulled and postured me to his desire by tugging at the handcuffs pinning my arms stiffly behind my back. I was flipped over to lie down over my hands with my head resting on the pillows. John retreated momentarily to retrieve various folded up articles of clothes from his suitcase to tie my ankles to the bedposts with. A quiver ran deep through my core and I looked to him helplessly as he completed my restraints by stuffing my tossed-aside knickers into my mouth as a makeshift gag.

“Such a pretty picture.” He remarked coolly, shifting over the bed to kneel between my parted thighs. 

I was still aching for him and I knew he knew it too. Quite a few months apart seemed to turn us into absolute ravaging fiends for each other, taking and giving everything we could to make up for all that lost time. We could talk later, for now we had to fuel and extinguish the fire in our loins.  
My hips squirmed against the disheveled hotel sheets, tugging at the binds that were holding my legs from movement. John ran his hands up along the inside of my thighs, reaching up to their peaks with one hand pressing my hipbone down while the other smacked at my exposed center like the crack of a whip. It was a preparatory move to stun me   
slightly just as he delved back into me with his full length. My back involuntarily arched up, trying to angle with and meet his perfect rhythm with labored breaths. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me.” He praised breathily.

I only cried out meekly in response, my voice muffled by the thin fabric he’d stuffed into my mouth. The sound made John smile cockily as he ran his hands roughly along my torso and drew me as close as possible under all the restraints. He was approaching his high now after holding back for so long. Curses flew from between his swollen pink lips and amongst gritted, deep moans from the base of his throat. His eyelids swooped low in bliss but he kept his eyes open to observe my own fucked-out expression. As his head tipped back and a higher groan rang out with finality, a warm stickiness coated me from inside.

But he wasn’t done with me yet, bringing a hand around and over the exact spot where I could feel him buried within me. John drew back only after I felt as though his heat was pooling in my stomach and threatening to overflow out from between my legs. His calloused fingertips teased into the sensitive skin and his other hand reached up to pull the filthy, now-wettened, gag from my mouth.

“I want to hear all the pretty little sounds you make, Y/N.” He commanded, bringing his free hand down to finger-fuck me.

A flush spread through me as I heard the vulgar, sopping squelches of the palm of his hand smacking against my glistening wet core. It felt like everything was cascading out of me, down the backs of my thighs and saturating into the sheets with the vibrating speed of his hand. My sighs grew louder into whining moans and I couldn’t hold them back. The sounds of my maddening pleasure burst through my lips and I was lost in it, fighting against my ankle restraints like a feral animal.

“J-John, please! Please, I’m so close- !” 

“Come on, Y/N, let go for me.” He crooned in his steady tone, a dark adoration in his eyes. 

A heavenly warmth flooded through my whole abdomen, down to the tips of my curled toes and my grasping fingers. It felt like too much, like I wouldn’t be able to take so much pleasure washing over me. I focused on my breath and eased the heaving of my lungs, feeling the coolness of sweat against the heat of the room. John untied my binds and clipped open the handcuffs, then lied down beside me.

“I missed you.” He confessed softly, throwing an arm gently over my bare stomach.

“I missed you too. And I’m glad we’re together now to the end of the tour.”

“I’ll make love to you every night now.” He smiled.

“You promise?” I questioned with a quirk of my brow and a sleepy smile.

He nodded and faintly pressed kisses along the side of my face, nuzzling his head into my shoulder. Faint gray light of the early morning glowed through the crack between the window’s curtains while the two of us just started to fall asleep.


	60. the sunblock one pt.3 (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x fem!reader  
> warnings: nsfw

request: not a particular one, just lots of asking for a part 3

The night went by in a daze, the memories in my mind playing with a rose-colored gleam over them like I was watching dreamy film scenes instead of remembering something that happened several hours ago. Jimmy directed me to the shower, quickly slipping in with me under the excuse of saving water and eagerly caressing my body with his hands as he turned on the hot water. It was bliss over our muscles, and I chuckled at the sight of Jimmy with his silvery curls straightening out at his shoulders. 

We got dressed haphazardly and went up to the kitchen for dinner. I was again surprised to see Jimmy dressed so casually in a loose, untucked shirt and pants that hung loose around his slim legs. He lent me a button-up shirt to wear over one of his other gifts; luckily, no one else seemed to be around the house to see me so lightly dressed. Either way, Jimmy couldn’t look away for the whole evening. 

He swept me away, now upstairs to a grander bedroom with a grand salle designed with the utmost taste. I wished to admire it more but Jimmy’s hand gently tugged me along before I could, carrying me up onto this fresh set of sheets and letting his fingers linger along my sides as he pushed his shirt off my shoulders. This time he did take the delicate lingerie off me, touching and kissing all over for what felt like days. We kept at it until neither of us could stay awake any longer, lying down and nuzzling into each other.  
I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up, only seeing golden morning light shining onto the floor between drawn curtains. After rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes, I shifted around within the satiny touch at my hips to gaze at a sleepy Jimmy. He breathed quietly with his lips parted and only then did I notice how long his eyelashes were. I traced my fingertips along his face and leaned forward to kiss him, unfortunately awakening him despite my gentleness. 

“Well, good morning my love.” He smiled, drowsiness still lingering in his foggy forest green eyes. 

“Hi, Jimmy.” 

“Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever before, actually. How about you?”

“Not too bad, you make a very nice bed partner.” He complimented, letting his hand roam down the curve of my ass. 

As his naughty touch wandered down between my legs, I curled my head into his shoulder and worked on marking him up a little. His hand reached up to turn my head up and captured my lips with his. Leaving the hand at my jaw to keep me close, he used the other to reach into me with a simple curl of his fingers. I gasped against his lips, earning a smile from Jimmy and feeling his tongue invade the inside of my mouth. 

It felt like he was draining every ounce of my energy, taking the air from my lungs and making me open up to him at his probing. Desire pooled in my stomach and dripped down onto his fingers. I whimpered into his mouth and reached down to return the favor. But Jimmy broke away as my hand wrapped over his shaft. 

I looked up to him in bewilderment, “What’s wrong?”

“Remember yesterday? I wanted to try something with you, if you’re willing.” 

“Of course, anything you want.” I answered faithfully.

“Such a good girl…” Jimmy praised softly, giving me a parting kiss on the forehead then moving off me. 

My eyes followed his steps to the carved dresser along the side of the wall. Jimmy leaned over, opening a specific drawer and digging through its contents with a wicked sparkle in his hooded eyes. A suspicion crossed my mind, an accurate suspicion given the little glimpses of things I saw in Jimmy’s hand as he came back to me. My ideas sent jolts through my core and in my chest; he wasn’t even touching me but I was still needy and dripping for him.

But he still didn’t touch me yet, and instead stood to my side with the collected paraphernalia in hand. I investigated exactly what he’d brought out while he looked down to my restless, bare form. A stoic expression marked his changed demeanor, even though I could read what he was thinking through his eyes.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve got in mind so you can tell me if you don’t want to do it. ‘s that alright, Y/N?”

“Yes, Jimmy.” 

“First, call me Mr. Page. Now, these are some lighter things that I pulled out for you: ropes, candles, a ball gag, and a little paddle. Anything you’re not comfortable with?”

I smiled up to him, “No Mr. Page, I’m all yours for the taking.”

“That’s what I like to hear, now put your hands up over your head and open your mouth for me.” 

With just a moment of hesitation, I followed his request with my wrists pressed together up by the headboard and parting my lips. Jimmy carefully wrapped a length of rope around my wrists and I noticed that it wasn’t as rough or uncomfortable as I thought it would be. He tested the bind by trying to pull my arms apart, then tsked when he looked to my face.

“Baby, the gag isn’t going to fit in your mouth if you don’t open it wider.” Jimmy chided. 

His finger pressed my lower lip down to encourage me further and I shyly complied. The small plastic sphere fit right into my mouth under my teeth and Jimmy had to lift my head to buckle it into place. A hum buzzed in his throat when he took a step back to observe his handiwork. He merely warned me to shake my head vigorously if I wanted him to stop at any point since I couldn’t say anything now.

The other two pieces of rope were curled and tightened over each of my ankles to the bedposts, making sure that I couldn’t pull my legs back together. It was an odd feeling, being so bare and unable to hide it away. But I liked it, and I liked the way Jimmy had a sliver of a smile on his lips as he looked down at me. All it took was that look to make me squirm against my new binds. 

“Now I’ve made it very easy for you, little girl, so stay still for me or I’ll have to punish you.” 

I batted my eyes at him as encouragement, given that my mouth couldn’t give him a response. Jimmy placed the rich, burgundy-colored candle in his hand into an empty candle holder on the nightstand then lit its wick. A wafting scent of cinnamon filled my nose as he pressed his lips over my whole torso with the gentleness of a blossomed rose. It was heaven and so unexpectedly sensual after being tied up in such a kinky way. 

His lips had trailed down to my stomach, where he continued his downward journey with his tongue and began to lap up the wetness that’d been dripping down my thighs. I found that the binds were actually helpful to me since I couldn’t buck up my hips as much, nor cry out loudly. My chest rose and fell like I was a goldfish pulled out of the comfortable water of the fishbowl by Jimmy’s hands. His eyes greedily watched my yearning, pleasured expression while his fingers joined his mouth and worked me open.

My legs pulled against the ropes holding me, unable to relieve myself by drawing my thighs together or reach down to tug at Jimmy’s hair in encouragement. But he seemed to enjoy having me completely unable to intervene with his ministrations. I let myself dissolve into his touch, my head leaning back into the pillows and my eyes rolling back as his probing fingers struck a perfect spot within me. 

But the moment my gaze shifted away, the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth parted from my core and instead I was stung with a hot liquid dripped onto my stomach. I whimpered through the gag and jolted, my eyes immediately looking down to what my host was doing to me. The candle he’d set aside was now in his hand, still aflame and tilted to have the heated wax cascade onto my torso. Jimmy gave me a moment to gather myself and let the wax harden over my skin, seeing the shocked look in my eyes. 

“Stay still, love.” He warned, tilting the candle back over my stomach to continue painting my abdomen with the dark crimson wax.

His finger traced over the hardened layer of wax as a hotter layer splattered over my skin, making me jerk slightly in surprise. The heat eased within a few seconds, but I couldn’t stop my reflex at the sudden sensation and jerked against my binds. I even bit down on the gag in attempt to steady my reactions and not disobey Jimmy’s simple order. But my efforts were in vain – my frame arched off the bed and squirmed underneath him, my voice muffled but mewling in my throat. 

Jimmy frowned and shook his head, “Not a good girl. I’ll have to punish you now.”

The gag was hastily removed, a string of saliva stretching from the underside of the ball back to my mouth. Only then did I feel how sore my jaw already was and had to take a moment to stretch while Jimmy reached to the foot of the bed for the paddle. He flipped it around in his hand, showing off his expertise with it as he turned his attention to me.   
I felt so alive, completely attentive to everything going on while my mind was reeling with curiosity and my pulse was electrified. Every moment I’d spent with Jimmy or talking to him was thrilling. He was more vivacious and mysterious than any person I’d ever met – I don’t think I could ever tire of being around him. My mind, body, and soul were captivated.

“Well, little girl, I didn’t want to punish you but you didn’t follow my orders. If you can stay still this time and be quiet, I’ll take it easy on you.” 

The moment I felt his little weapon strike me a jolt of arousal flooded my core. A wet smack sounded from my core against the smooth, leathery surface of the paddle. As Jimmy kept going and my thigh muscles tightened with each hit, I only wondered how this was a punishment when I was enjoying it so much. I bit down on my lip to hold back moans and kept my eyes locked with Jimmy’s. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He remarked with surprise. “Only since you’ve been so good, I’ll stop. We’ll have to try a different punishment next time since you seem to enjoy this a little too much.”

“Next time?” I asked, a hopeful smile on my lips.

“If you wish to, then of course.”

“You do realize I need to go home at some point, Mr. Page.” I reminded, earning a more innocent kiss on my lips as he stowed away the paddle.

“Then let me give you a proper parting.”


	61. EDs headcanons (led zeppelin x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: led zeppelin x reader with an eating disorder  
> warnings: mentions of EDs

request: "i wanna start of by saying i love your writing, you’re my go-to when it comes to zeppelin imagines !! i understand if you don’t wanna write this request out, but could you write how zeppelin would act with their partner with an ed? specifically when they’re going into a relapse? if you do end up doing this one, thank you lots in advance !!! <3"

Jimmy  
-it was so easy to fall into a relapse while hanging around on tour, no proper schedules or solid time-zones as long as we were in the right place by the right time  
-jimmy wasn’t really much help either since he barely ate much of anything, the difference was that it wasn’t due to something plaguing his mind and keeping him at it  
-but given your past patterns, he learned to check in with you every so often to make sure you were doing okay and at least having something light  
-he started to pay more attention to his own habits and tried to help both of you at the same time by offering to go places or ordering food into the hotel rooms between performing  
-it made you feel uncomfortable to eat in front of him when you were already relapsing for so long and mentally rewarding yourself for it, but there was something encouraging rather than pressured in the way he went about trying to help  
-jimmy would be very kind about it, not acting any differently towards you as you tried to appease him and the sane part of your mind that wanted so desperately to just be normal  
-recovering from the hiccup of a relapse wasn’t entirely smooth but he helped you through it with a reassuring smile and a kiss as incentive for the next time

Bonzo  
-he’s probably the most insistent on changing your habits and isn’t hesitant to call them out, mostly out of concern to get you back on the right track quickly  
-it feels like absolute hell because of how forceful john is, so you have to bite back a few frustrated outbursts at him  
-but in the back of your mind you know it’s for the best and try to tough it out even through tears, nausea, wrenching stomach, and all  
-john makes a reciprocal promise to cut down on his own vices of imbibing, especially on tours or otherwise away from home so it doesn’t seem so unfair for him to push on you  
-most evenings are reserved for softer discussions to go over how you were feeling about trying to get out of the relapse and help you through it on a mental side rather than only focusing on physical/external changes  
-he wanted to make sure that you were doing okay because you were obviously struggling through it and he didn’t want to push you too far, especially since he wasn’t a doctor  
-you started to show signs of getting better after several weeks and you started to feel more accepting of the new habits, so john wanted to celebrate by taking you to out on a weekend trip

Jonesy  
-john would be much more discreet in his methods to try helping you out of the relapse so it wouldn’t feel like he was forcing you into anything  
-he’d give you something off of his own plate if you rejected an offer to eat, stating that he couldn’t finish it and didn’t want anything to go to waste  
-his intermediate tactic was making sure all of your safe foods were readily available to you, that way you at least didn’t feel so uncomfortable eating because they didn’t make your head go into a panic as much as some of the other options  
-the last resort was buying your most favorite foods that you had a weak spot for and making it just too enticing to resist, no matter how long you tried waiting out the urge  
-he’d only ask about once a day what you ate and questioned you in a very offhand tone to prevent you from getting defensive or anxious about it  
-if you backtracked one day and it upset you, john would be very understanding with the assurance that it might’ve just been a bad day so you could try again tomorrow  
-john would also help with your mentality about the whole thing too so you could rationalize why you needed to change your patterns besides the fact that it wasn’t normal or healthy

Robert  
-he figured out how to cook properly, thanks to pat bonham, without burning or undercooking things just to keep you away from the kitchen   
-it also functioned as a means of getting you to eat a little by requesting that you should at least try something he made after all the efforts he went through  
-he’d make sure then to make things you absolutely loved so it was harder to stop after a few bites and would talk to you about it afterwards to reason through your guilt so it could put your mind at ease  
-robert also tried to keep you housebound to relax while he did any physical work around the house, that way you didn’t expend any extra energy   
-you’d also be wholeheartedly encouraged to go see a doctor if you felt up to it and robert’s makeshift tactics weren’t really doing much for you  
-occasional evening walks, hand-in-hand with robert, would help clear your mind and serve as light exercise since you spent so much time inside  
-if you got bored sitting at home, robert would happily read to you until you fell asleep with your head in his lap


	62. parting (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: jimmy page x reader  
> warnings: angsty, but none other than that

request: "could you please write something angsty about breaking up/divorcing jimmy? lmao I'm sorry if this is too weird"

I didn’t think it would ever really come to this. There was always this questioning from other people and shadowing doubts of this arrangement going on forever, but it never really set in my mind until now. A realization had dawned on me at the start of the week and I couldn’t help but mull it over, no matter how hard I tried ignoring it. 

Jimmy had come back from touring three weeks ago, cheerful and sleepy. He was a different person at home – constantly yearning for the on-the-road lifestyle, playing music as often as he could, indulging lightly in domesticity, telling me about fun places he’d been to. It was like being a housemaid, but at a very lavish hotel for one visitor only. He was kind and loving, of course, but somehow it felt like I was chained down.

For the past three days I’d been mentally re-writing my speech for how I was going to express myself to him. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, nor flop down into an emotional mess without finishing what I was saying. It would have to be today, after dinner, and completely calm. No tears, no shaky breaths, no furrowed brows. Just the simple truth. 

My heart was racing a little as I struck, “Jimmy, can I talk to you about something?”

He glanced up at me with a dazzling, boyish smile. “Sure, what is it?”

I took in a deep breath and stepped out of the kitchen to where he was sitting in the adjoining living room. A tiny hint of worry clouded his eyes when he saw my stoic face and my frigid body language. He opened his arms up invitingly but I didn’t acknowledge them, only confirming his worries.

“This arrangement we have isn’t working for me. It was really great before and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay here like this.” 

His eyes fell to my feet as he nodded slowly.

“I can stay until the next round of touring starts, but I won’t be here when you get back. No hard feelings, I’ll always be here to help you with anything, just not like this.”

The air was thick with silent conflict. My spiel was finished, I was simply waiting for Jimmy to react to everything I’d told him. I thought he would instantly ask me to leave in that dark, carefully measured tone of his, maybe even get a little angry. He was still silent, and I still stood before him fidgeting my hands as my nerves grew.

“Jimmy, please say something.” 

He looked back up at me with his loudly speaking eyes and they told me all I needed to know. There was hurt, confusion, sadness, and a sheen of welling tears. That, I hadn’t expected. His hand reached up to wipe it all away before any tears trickled down his cheeks, a sharp breath cutting at his lips. 

“Y/N, I can’t stop you so I dunno want you want me to say. You know I’ll miss you and that I’m a little helpless sometimes without you.”

“I appreciate your acceptance and your sentiment, I’ll miss you a lot too. It’s just that I’m not here to be your housemaid while you’re gone, or your secretary for when you have all these events going on. You, yourself have given me nothing but happiness. But I know you can’t stay faithful while traveling or put your passion for your work aside. I wouldn’t ask you to do that, so I’m leaving instead.”

“Okay.”

The shakiness started to catch up with me after I’d finally gotten it all out, all I had left to ask was: “Do you want me to leave now or when your next tour starts?”

“Stay as long as you can so I can give you a proper goodbye.” Jimmy smiled lightly.


	63. silent lullaby (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: jimmy page x reader  
> warnings: none

request: "a fluffy oneshot of cuddling with jimmy ? 🥺💓" & "since your requests are open {sorry if not} , could you write some fluff with late 60s jimmy?" 

“Darling, you should take a rest at some point.” Jimmy called for the umpteenth time.

I glanced up from the paperwork, noticing ghost lines of text still lingering in my vision as I replied: “Very funny coming from you.”

“I’m serious, you’ve been bent over those for the last four hours in dim light. It’s not good for your eyes and you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Giving in, I sighed then pushed my seat away from the table and stacks of grueling work papers. My feet shuffled over the floor to where Jimmy was seated on a nearby sofa. His arms extended to welcome me into him, and he pulled me in alongside his own reclining frame. He brushed a hand along the curve of my cheek, down my jawline and skimming his thumb over my lower lip. My tensed shoulders and muscles relaxed at his touch, like sweet-smelling wax softening into a warm hand. 

“Just rest, you’ll get the work done later.” Jimmy assured, resting his arms along my sides to pull me close.

My mind was finally out of its stressed, numb haze and I took slow, deep breaths that lulled me to sleep even faster. I didn’t know what time it was, nor did I care after how tired I’d grown and the comfort I felt in this position. With my face pressed into his chest, all I could smell was the scent of his musky clothes and fragrant shampoo in his hair. It was like a drug that silenced my senses with each inhale, sailing me off to a blissful unconsciousness.


	64. experimentation (jimmy page & robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '69 Jimmy Page & Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "can you do jimbert/reader, but reader starts off being in a relationship with jimmy and it turns out they both have a mutual crush on robert 😈"

Jimmy swung an arm around my shoulders after handing off his guitar to a roadie, his pink t-shirt soaked with sweat after that hours-long concert. I pressed a kiss to warm cheek, brushing away his now-long, black, wavy hair. The show had been mind blowing, and they were still impressed at their almost telepathic ability to riff off each other on stage so easily. I was amazed that they hadn’t rehearsed all of the improvisations they added to songs.

But what really caught my attention during this show was the chemistry in staging, especially between Jimmy and Robert. The singer’s wails echoed off the guitar’s mysterious, sultry melodies in a perfect synchronization. It captured the audience’s attention and sent ripples of molten heat up through my abdomen. The drums and bass were pulse-infiltrating too, incredible in how powerful they were as they followed along with their flashier counterparts. It left me restless and buzzing with the electricity of the instruments pumping through my veins, even more so when Jimmy led me further backstage with his arm drawing us hip-to-hip. 

“How’d you like the show, Y/N?” He asked, taking a sip of water from a plastic bottle and keeping his eyes on me.

“Incredible as always, Jimmy. You’re like a wizard and Robert’s like a siren up there, captivating the audience together.”

“How poetic.” He chuckled then teased: “Am I going to have to compete with him now?”

I gasped, “Not at all, but you don’t expect me to deny that Robert is fuckin’ hot after witnessing what the two of you just did during How Many More Times.”

The guitarist replied with a silent quirk of his brows, glancing to his blond bandmate who was chatting and giggling with Bonzo on a bench. I could tell something was brewing in his head, I only hoped it was something favorable for me. Jealousy wasn’t unfamiliar to Jimmy and he was starting to feel a slight friendly rivalry with Robert, so I was hoping my comment didn’t propel any hostility. Without giving me a clue to his thoughts, Jimmy told me he had something important to discuss and he’d be back in a minute.

I watched him walk in Peter’s direction, likely going to talk about band business, and turned to the backstage catering table for something to drink. Some of the roadies made small talk with me as they filled up their plates ravenously with food. They were all pretty good company and I sympathized with them for how important yet often overlooked their work was. But they always seemed to have fun on tours just as the band themselves did, so I figured they drew joy from being around the music scene and traveling without the potential of being bombarded on the streets. 

My snacking and discussions were cut off when Jimmy called my name, beckoning me to him with an impish smile. I noticed that he hadn’t been speaking with Peter, but with Robert. Bonzo shifted away since I’d scoped out the backstage area and was speaking with Jonesy now. Unlike Jimmy’s obvious joviality, the singer had a hint of a smile on his thin lips and a little glint in his eyes as they both peered at me. I joined them, pecking the guitarist’s cheek in greeting.

“What’d you call me here for? Are we leaving already?” I asked.

“No, I wanted to ask you something – did you really mean what you said earlier? About Robert, I mean.” 

It was a tricky question. Maybe he meant this as a bantering gesture for the both of them to laugh over and take as positive feedback on their performance. Or he could mean this as a proposition. I wasn’t sure exactly what sort of proposition, but the daring thought excited me. 

“Yeah, I meant it.” I nodded shyly, still feeling uncertain of how confident I should sound in my answer depending on the outcome.

The boys smiled wider at each other as they shared a look that only perplexed me further. Undeniably, there was something going on in their minds and, given their cheeky expressions, it wasn’t anything simple. They weren’t just going to laugh this off. There was a scheme here that they’d put together while I had stepped away. As my mind reeled with ideas, it seemed like both of them were standing over me like an intimidating wall only a few inches away from me. My heart was racing already.

“Everyone, get to the cars so we can get back to the hotel!” Peter suddenly shouted before either of the boys could explain what was going on.

A sneaking suspicion swirled in my mind as each of them took one of my hands and guided me along between them through the backstage doors. I sat between them in the backseat, pressed tightly up against their legs and shoulders. Their hands had dropped mine, Jimmy’s high up my skirt-clothed thigh and Robert’s grazing just over my bare knee. A pulse of heat rose up through my core when I realized my suspicion was likely correct based on their body language, but I kept my mouth shut.

It was starting to feel stifling just after five minutes had passed in the backseat where personal space apparently didn’t exist. The bluesy song playing through the radio wasn’t helping either, with its fairly suggestive lyrics hidden under brassy cymbals and a thumping bassline. I was praying that this ride wouldn’t take too long. My curiosity of their intentions was killing me, and I was itching for them to get on with it already. 

But when the car rolled to a stop another five or so minutes later, I felt more hesitant. Maybe I was reading too much into this and letting my own ideas run wild. After all the seat was fairly narrow, so it wasn’t odd for them to be touching me just out of mere proximity. They were good friends too, so that would explain their easy banter with each other. These thoughts eased my riled-up state as I stepped out to the hotel lobby, especially as Robert separated from us. 

Jimmy led us around to our room with an arm over my hip, plopping right down onto the foot of the bed after fixing himself up with a splash of scotch from the mini bar. I lied back beside him and squirmed when he reached over to tickle my sides. My hand smacked his away and he turned his attention back to the almost-spilled drink in his hand due to my fidgeting. He gulped down the rest of the amber liquid and stood up, requesting me to stay in my reclining position. 

I propped myself up on my elbows, following him with my eyes then seeing him return with a split-open pomegranate and an intricately decorated silver spoon. Jimmy sat back with me, spooning out the little ruby-coated seeds and holding them out to my mouth. My mind caught the allusion to the binding of Persephone and Hades, it made me smile.   
“Close your eyes, Y/N.” He commanded, not yet probing the spoon through my parted lips.

There was no hesitation in my actions when I complied, having full trust in Jimmy. I felt the cool metal touch my tongue and closed my lips as he pulled the spoon away, tasting the tart but surprisingly sweet flavor of the pomegranate seeds. It had been a while since the last time I had these and they were better than I remembered as a kid. 

“Keep them closed.” Jimmy added, somehow knowing that I was about to open my eyes. “Just stay still.”

A feather-light touch grazed up under the fabric of my skirt and eased apart my thighs, a different touch pressing warmly against my lips. But it felt unusual, not like Jimmy’s teasing pace and plush, honeyed lips. It was more sudden and deeper, catching my breath in my chest instead of making me sigh in pleasure. A larger hand caressed my jaw and trailed down my neck. It wasn’t normal Jimmy, but I was enjoying every second of it. 

I tensed the moment I felt a set of lips against my thigh too, making me realize that this couldn’t possibly be just Jimmy at all. My eyes opened in startlement, my lips no longer reacting to whoever was over me and pulling away when I saw Robert kissing me. Jimmy chuckled at my realization, kneeling back from between my legs with the same impish grin on his face. 

“Surprised, love?” He asked rhetorically. “I invited Robert over since you seemed interested in the idea. He was very happy to accept and just went to check on his luggage before coming in here.”

“You’re alright with this, yeah?” Robert double-checked.

My hesitation only came from the sheer amazement of Jimmy turning my little fantasy, slip of the tongue into a reality. True, I had a suspicion of this but part of me didn’t believe Jimmy would agree to it. A smile trickled across my lips and my eyes looked between the two of them with eager anticipation.

“I’m definitely okay with it, what made you two decide to do this?” 

Robert answered first: “It’s a fun idea, trying somethin’ different.”

Jimmy cleared his throat, “Well I don’t really like sharing, but I trust Percy here. Besides, I’ve had some interest in expanding our relations… for creative purposes.” 

My brows quirked up, wondering why Jimmy hadn’t mentioned anything like this to me before but also remembering their electrifying dynamic onstage. Robert looked a bit intrigued by this confession but happily went along in the moment, jokingly reaching down to pull Jimmy up for a peck on the cheek. But it wasn’t enough for the guitarist. His long-blistered fingertips grasped back at the singer and drew him back in, redirecting him to his lips. 

It was like watching to lightning bolts collide but wishing to be struck by them instead of running off in fear. Heat was threading through every fiber of my core and up through my abdomen. They pulled away from each other breathlessly then turned to me, wolfish hunger in their eyes as they set their sights on me. I couldn’t tell whose hands where touching me where, just that they were working in sync at my undoing and making me lie back between them. 

Clothes were slipping off our bodies and fell to the floor between our desperate hands until the three of us were as nude as the Renaissance deity figures hung up the walls of nearby museums. Jimmy and Robert both looked like gods: careless waves in their long shining hair, perfect features, playfully glimmering eyes, hinted smiles on their pink lips. It felt like a dream when they leaned into each other over me, their hands delicately grazing across my torso. 

But I interrupted their tantalizing little show with each other, sitting up and pushing Robert beneath me. Both men were taken aback by my brashness but I paid no mind to them as I leaned over his chest to kiss all the way down to his hips. I looked up to a flushed Robert who groaned deep in his throat at my gaze and rolled his head back. From the sidelines, Jimmy was stroking himself lazily.

I took Robert’s length into my hand, holding him up to my mouth while my tongue flicked along the head. His hands fisted at the sheets when I grasped at his balls, only to be pushed aside to Jimmy. The two of us were now dedicating our attention to the moaning singer. I was surprised as I observed Jimmy alternate with me: taking Robert’s cock down our throats, licking up the length, kissing the tip, squeezing his lemons. From experience, I knew Jimmy was skilled with his mouth and based on Robert’s loud cries I could tell he was very good at pleasing whoever the receiver was. 

Our little ritual was interrupted by a new, frantic tone to Robert’s breaths and I looked to Jimmy for direction only to be pushed down by the back of my head to align my open mouth back down with Robert’s length. I sucked in my cheeks, pumping a hand over him and teasing him lightly with my tongue until a familiar hot stickiness shot into my mouth. The singer above me sighed loudly and roughly in content, slowly encouraging me to slip off whereas his partner pulled me back by the neck. He kissed me, injecting his prying tongue into my mouth and having a taste of his bandmate’s salty, bitter cum. 

“Do you two have a habit of doin’ this sort of thing?” Robert asked breathlessly, watching us with interest.

Jimmy sat back; a telltale white stickiness glazed over his pink lips as he looked to his bandmate with unshaking aloofness. 

I snickered and crawled my way up over his hips, “Not usually.” 

The singer lied down beneath me and I pressed our chests together, feeling like warm, soft leather was grazing over my bare skin. Lower down, his saliva-lathered tip prodded against and between the wetness of my own folds. I played with him, allowing myself to sink just barely over him before pulling back up and never quite granting him relief. Jolting pulses of electricity shot up through my abdomen with every little stroke, and I could tell he felt the same sensation from the look on his face – furrowed brows, parted lips, splayed out golden hair, pleading eyes. But he still didn’t reach out to my hips and force them down, he waited through the torment and only let his melodious moans build in his throat.

“Y/N, can’t you see you’re torturing poor Percy?” Jimmy hinted, placing a hand gently over my backside.

“I want him to ask for it.” I explained with a pout, looking down at the complacent singer.

His eyes blew wide as he quickly stuttered out: “Please, Y/N, please fuck me already.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg… pretty enough for me to switch places with you.” I remarked, urging him up by the shoulder and taking his place lying down with my head on the pillows.

Robert now looked far more excited than he’d been before, looking to his bandmate with a boyish mischief written all over his face. But his more stoic friend merely requested him to scrounge the floor for the silky scarf he’d worn earlier amidst the discarded clothes. Upon receiving his requested item, Jimmy balled it up and pushed it into my open mouth to keep me from being too loud. We were, after all, still in a hotel full of other people. 

It was clear that Jimmy was the ringmaster within our dynamic, quietly directing everything to his taste as long as we went along with it. So it caught Robert and I by surprise when he remained off to my side, only giving a short nod for his bandmate to get on with it. The singer kept his eyes on me with a greedy, lopsided grin while he parted my bent knees and checked on me with the slip of his fingers. As a means to get back at me, Robert’s fingers continued their ministrations, exploring and working me up to a high but drawing away the moment I came close to a climax.

“Are you sure about this?” Robert asked with finality.

I nodded, the silky scarf a thin, saliva-soaked gag but still doing its job of muffling my voice. My body was buzzing with all the climbing anticipation finally leading up to this moment and I almost crumpled at the sight of Robert offering his glistening fingers to the guitarist, who gladly licked them clean. Only after did Robert ease his way into me, pushing his hips with a slow motion to avoid harming me. This initial stage was the simplest with how wet I’d become in preparation and past experience, but the continuous inching of that last little bit of length made the muscles in my stomach clench. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m not gonna last long if you keep at that.” He warned, placing his hands down along the sides of my lower stomach like warm weights trying to ease the tension underneath them.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jimmy lazily stroking himself and studiously observing our interaction. His fingers nimbly retrieved the gag from my mouth after justifying it under his desire to hear me. I wanted to taunt him in some way and force him to intervene, so my reply would have to tick him off slightly to get the ball rolling.

“Mm, Robert I just can’t help it… it just feels so good.” I emphatically confessed.

The naïve singer merely smiled at the compliment, rolling his hips back and forth skillfully to set a comfortable rhythm. My hands roamed freely over my body to heighten the building ecstasy within every single part of me. But Jimmy pulled them together with one hand, throwing them up over my head as an instruction to keep them there. Robert sped up and kindly replaced where my hands had been with his, hammering away at my wall while caressing along the lines that V-ed down between my legs in a perfect juxtaposition of touches. Robert was teetering over the edge, I could feel it and hear it in the guttural sounds erupting from above me. He was merciless for a while, then slowed drastically as he sheathed himself entirely within me. The knot in my stomach was tightening more and more, feeling the telltale flutter just before careening into an orgasm. 

Jimmy easily read him exactly the way he did on stage, swooping in from the sidelines to face his bandmate and draw him nearer with the caress of his hand over his jaw. The expression of the singer’s face was the definition of pure bliss as he finally hit release and was entrapped in a deep kiss from his bandmate. His hands moved off of me and fixed themselves delicately over Jimmy’s slim frame. At first, timidly and then they pulled him close as desperately as he’d just fucked me.

But before either of them could get too comfortable, Jimmy sprung back and pushed Robert out of the way. It left me with a sudden sensation of emptiness, at least relative to how full I’d just felt. I jolted back, though, when I felt Jimmy’s tongue lapping at me. His fingers pressed just above my pelvic bone, as if to urge his bandmate’s heat to pour from me and onto his tongue. 

When his head popped back up, and I felt absolutely drained, Jimmy turned to Robert: “You both taste good together.”

The singer flashed a dimpled smile, “Are you trying to tell us something, Pagey?”

“No, just making a comment. I could’ve said it was like custard, but that would sound a bit strange.”

I cracked up, throwing my head back and the two of them laughing along with me. Robert plopped down at my left side and Jimmy more calmly lied down to my right, their arms loosely thrown over me almost protectively. Neither of them seemed completely satiated quite yet though, their lips and teeth working on marking up my neck then occasionally stop in between to connect them with the other’s. 

“If you both aren’t sleepy yet, leave me out of this so I can rest. Don’t need me to have fun.” I pointed out, turning to my side and lying back into the pillow. “Just don’t be too loud or push me off.”


	65. mysterious mr. page pt.2 (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: vampire!Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: mind control, typical weird vampire stuff, not quite nsfw

request: "Hi! Can you please write a part two to the vampire Jimmy piece? And possibly nsfw or mabye simply sensual?☺"

My eyes opened from a heavy sleep to a hazy darkness, very dim light shining between thick curtains to illuminate the silhouette of furniture. I sat up, my hands feeling cool silk beneath them and the plushy firmness of a bed. Panic immediately racked my veins. What happened to me? All I remembered was going to work, seeing Mr. Page, and then everything went black. I could feel clothes on my body, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. There was just a piercing pain on one side of my neck if I moved it too much.

I reached up to touch the spot on my neck, feeling a stiff bandage stuck on over my skin with papery medical tape holding it in place. Maybe something happened to me and I lost a lot of blood or blacked out so I couldn’t remember anything about it now. The question now was whether to get up to investigate or stay until someone came in here to check on me. This obviously wasn’t my home and given my memories, combined with the elaborate yet familiar stylings of the room that I could see in the dim light, I could venture to guess this was Mr. Page’s house. 

But before I could slip out of the bed I was placed upon, the door was opened and the gilded chandelier overhead was switched on. My heart stopped for a moment as I froze, only to sigh in relief at seeing that my prediction had been correct. He came towards me with a concerned expression and his hands reached out to me once he was at the bedside.  
“Are you alright? You fainted earlier.” He explained.

“I think so. I just can’t remember anything that happened while I was rearranging things on the sh- ” I halted, a strange glowing spreading in my mind as a memory of him kissing me reappeared and I exclaimed this new development to him: “Wait no, the last thing I remember is- ”

“Me thanking you for your work?” Jimmy smiled boyishly.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how I hurt my neck or why I passed out…” 

“You fainted and knocked into a bookshelf with some sharp crystals, so I brought you home with me to fix it up. I’m not quite sure why you fainted though. Maybe it was a bit too much excitement.” 

“Oh, well thank you for being so kind to me, Mr. Page.”

“Don’t mention it, ‘s my fault anyways.” 

I fell silent, wanting to trust his words but not quite believing that I could’ve somehow knocked only my neck onto a bookshelf and that a few crystals could cause enough damage to warrant a bandage. It was also strange how the memory sort of appeared so vividly out of nowhere and made my forehead glow with warmth as it played in my head. Even in past occasions when memories came back to me, it never felt like that. My eyes flickered suspiciously to my host, only to be intimidated by his studious gaze fixed right back at me. 

But then it was gone and replaced again by his friendly smile, “Where are my manners? Would you like some dinner, Y/N?” 

“Sure, thanks.” I nodded, trying to shake off the strange hesitance nagging at me and weird gut feeling about this whole deal.

“Take my hand, your head might be woozy still.” He guided, helping me out of bed and walking me through to his kitchen. 

My head certainly did feel oddly light and it was spinning as I tried to take a single step on my own, making me very thankful for my host being so accommodating. He planted me at the kitchen counter and went to carry a more comfortable seat in for me, bringing back a very expensive-looking armchair then carefully sitting me down into it. My weak frame limply lied over the back of the seat as I watched him scurry around his kitchen. 

I was surprised at how warm he was acting towards me and how different it was compared to any other occasion where I interacted with him. In my memories from before today, he’d been fairly quiet, a stickler for details, very organized about his things, commanding, and distant. But here was the same man – now fixing me dinner suitable for royalty as I sat in something that I considered luxurious enough to be a throne. 

As he pulled up a small table for me to eat from, since the counter was a bit high for the chair I was seated in, he placed a plate down before me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do much better, the staff I usually have here left a few hours ago.”

“No, this is more than fine. Thank you.” I reassured him, taking a small, cautious bite from the dish as he stood nearby with nothing but a glass filled with a very rich, and crimson-colored wine.

The food looked fantastic and, upon tasting it, I discovered that I could just barely taste any flavor from it. It was as though all the tastes were muted and I could only taste the slightest hint of seasoning or sauce, not the food itself. Maybe it was from my nerves and bout of unwellness, like with a cold. 

“Do you live alone?” He inquired out of nowhere.

I pursed my lips at his suspicion-raising question, “Yes.”

“Oh alright, I just thought maybe you’d need to call someone to tell them why you didn’t come home.”

Somehow this only granted me a slight feeling of relief. I was trying to reason through all of this, but something just wasn’t adding up and there was a bad feeling in my gut. My gaze kept shifting over to Mr. Page, as though he might do something that would give away the answer. He only sipped down at his wine and tugged down the sleeve of his sweater casually.

I finished up with the dinner and thanked him again, feeling just a tiny bit better now. But I nearly fell back down into the luxurious chair the minute I tried to stand up on my own. My host looked to me with concern, a sharp glare in his eyes as he icily warned me not to do that again. His tone felt as intimidating as having the jarring point of a knife pointed into my throat. 

But then he softened in the blink of an eye, explaining that I should get some more sleep and gather my strength instead of pushing myself too hard now. I was entirely submitted into his power, unable to move on my own and my head spinning too much for me to argue. Mr. Page helped me back into the room I’d woke up in, sitting at the bedside and keeping up a conversation with me. He offered to read to me, finding a volume of Byron poems on the nightstand. But as he bid me a goodnight after a while, I grabbed at his wrist.

“Wait! Do I have to keep this bandage on, or can it come off?” I asked.

“Leave it on, you were bleeding and I don’t think it’s healed yet.” 

That triggered a red flag in my mind, and I jumped at the opportunity to inquire further: “Bleeding? From crystals? I didn’t think they were that sharp.”

He stiffened and the lighthearted expression of his face dissolved into a stern front: “I watched it happen and unless you’re suggesting that I lied to you, there really isn’t another explanation. Is that understood?”

A shiver ran up my spine and my stomach turned, “Well Mr. Page, it just seems very unlikely- ”

“Well then what do you want to hear?! Two nails were somehow jutting out and you managed to collide into them with your neck? A two-pronged fork happened to get lodged in your skin?”

I tried to hide my success in revealing a new hint: “Two? Who said anything about two prongs or nails?”

There was a hesitation as he made a reply so I knew I was hitting on something, “If you were to take your bandage off you’d notice two indentations from where the blood was coming from.”

“But how would that be possible from the crystal shelf when there’s always far more than two crystals on a shelf? And very few would be sharp enough to cause bleeding…” I reasoned. 

“How the bloody hell should I know! I wasn’t the one who fainted!” 

“Just tell me the truth!” 

“I did!”

“That can’t be possible!”

“Fine!” He shouted, finally silencing my inquisitive prodding. “That isn’t what happened. But you won’t believe me if I tell you the truth and if you did, you’d try to run off when you’ve barely got enough strength to stand up and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Thanks for the concern, but I seriously doubt it and I just want to know what happened.”

“Well considering the fact that you can’t run off and that if you tried telling anyone else, they’d think you’re crazy, I suppose there isn’t much harm in that. But I was right about you all along – you’re incredibly smart and perceptive.”

I shrugged off the compliment, only wanting him to tell me the truth already and stop delaying it. He pushed up just one sleeve of his sweater, revealing two circular marks of faint pink indenting the skin of his forearm. It only made me furrow my brows. He sighed, pursing his lips together with his expression focused then opening his mouth for me to see. His tongue guided my eyes, following the ridge of his top row of teeth so I could see the fairly sharp and pronounced canines amidst them.

“Okay?” I shook my head, thinking maybe he was just born with teeth like George Harrison’s and he had a weird thing about them.

“Forget what I said about you being perceptive, this is ludicrous.” He groaned. “You seriously didn’t get it from the teeth?”

“No? What is there to get? You can do a pretty convincing vampire costume for Halloween?”

“Now you’re getting closer.”

“Vampire costume?”

“Remove ‘costume’ and you’ve got the truth.”

I rolled my eyes in disbelief, “You’re shitting me. Prove it.” 

“Besides the indents on your neck and the damn blood I was drinking earlier, do I have your consent to overtake your mind for a moment? I’ll have to make you do something you wouldn’t normally do so you believe me.”

“Sure, since maybe you just like biting people like those feral kids in primary school and I was pretty sure that was wine you were drinking.”

“Take off your top.” He stated simply, a smile playing at his lips.

My mouth fell agape at his words, “I will do no such th- ”

I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence as my voice was stuck in my throat involuntarily and my hands reached to the hem of the shirt I’d been wearing all day long. I certainly had no personal will to fulfill this stupid little whim of his, but it was like being numbly stuck inside my body as it moved on its own. The fabric came sliding up off my torso and down my arms, then things felt back to normal. My host sported a flashy, I-told-you-so grin.

“Do you believe me now? I can restore all of your memories if you’d like to be sure.”

“I-I don’t know how you did that…”

“It comes with the gift. I have some power to control people’s minds and yours is by far the easiest I’ve ever played around with.”

“Let me see my neck.” I requested, somehow thinking that it would absolve my confusion.

My hands delicately clawed off the edges of the bandage and I tilted my head to the side, feeling the discomforting cold air finally touch the raw skin. Mr. Page’s grin widened as he handed me an elaborate little mirror that I held up, only to notice that I couldn’t see myself in it.

“What the fuck kind of mirror is this? I can see everything in it but myself!”

“It’s got a decent amount of silver in it, so you won’t see your reflection. Water? Yes. Glass? Sure. Film or mirrors? No.”

“What did you do to me?!” I demanded.

“Merely fulfilled what was bound to happen. The fact that your mind was so easily to manipulate meant that I was destined to have you by my side, you sway so easily to my control and yet I couldn’t possibly exercise such a power over you against your will because it wouldn’t be right.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Me? You have just the same ability over me now, it’s not an unfair arrangement.”

“I didn’t ask for this!” 

“But it’s your destiny, love, you just didn’t know it.”

There weren’t enough words in my mind to describe the maelstrom of anger boiling up within me as I put the bandage back into place. I still didn’t believe him, and especially not about the whole “destiny” thing when he was obviously being a selfish prick trying to blind me into listening to him. He remained silent, waiting for my reaction which happened to be fairly underwhelming.

“I hate you.”

He cracked up, “You don’t really mean that.”

“I do, and I’m leaving the minute I get my strength back.”

“Hm, shall we make a bet on it?” He crooned, standing over me as he crawled up to sit at my side and traced a finger along my jaw.

“Bet whatever you like. I’m leaving and I hate you.”

“Even now?”

A pout puffed out his lower lip and he leaned down, his hand coaxing my face up to meet his in what I expected to be a delicate kiss unlike the one I bashfully remembered from the bookstore. Only now I was angry beyond belief and my hands fisted at his sweater to pull him off me, but his grip was much stronger compared to that of my weakened state. He indulged himself deeper: one hand stiffly holding the side of my face up, the other at the uninjured side of my neck, both pulling me closer, and his lips pushing hard into mine as if trying to reach impossibly closer to me.

His lips parted from mine as quickly as they’d collided, instead reattaching themselves to my collarbones and inching lower. It was like the full bloom of a pink rose being pressed into my skin – a softness initially only to be followed by the prickling of its thorns, the thorns in this case being the sharp points of his canines grazing over me. He sucked a blossoming bruise just over my chest and looked up at me coolly.

“Still hate me?”

I nearly spat at him for that comment, “Yes.”

“Then why, pray tell, aren’t you begging me to get off you, leave you alone? And why can I hear only desire radiating through that pretty head of yours?”

“Because you’re delusional.”

“The delusional one is certainly not me.” He affirmed, diving a hand just below the waistband of my jeans. “Do you dare me to go further? Or do you truly despise me and wish for me to stop?”

I couldn’t help quivering under his hand. But this wasn’t like when he controlled my mind, I was consciously wishing for this bantering game to continue and too stubborn to admit it. My host knew exactly what he was doing and the snide smirk on his face told me that he could tell that my resolve was slipping away.

“No.” I muttered.

“No what? Do you want me to continue or should I stop now since you profess your hate for me so easily?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Full sentences, angel, we’re not five years old.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat.

“Don’t stop touching me you asshole.”

“Is that any way to treat someone who’s only been taking good care of you in your poor health and offering to give you exactly what you want?” 

“I wouldn’t be in poor health if it wasn’t for you, but fine. Would you kindly do me a little favor and get on with your ministrations, Mr. Page?” I asked in a soft voice and batted my eyes cartoonishly.

“That’s more like it.”


	66. professor au (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: professor!Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: none, there might be a part two though

Three years of studying at this university yet I still dreaded the first day of a new quarter, the professors throwing wordy syllabi, exam dates, extra study materials, and long assignments at their clueless students. I had high expectations for myself, often getting good grades and spending much of my time studying up to make sure my grades stayed that way. Both of those things combined just meant that the start of each quarter was riddled with anxiety. 

I roamed down through the expansive hallway of one of the liberal arts buildings, too much in a rush to find the right lecture hall to observe the far too familiar engraved detailing and artwork on the walls. Two-sixty. Two-sixty-two. Two-sixty-four. Ah, two-sixty-six. Just in time, according to my phone clock. I went into the empty lecture hall with a few other students apparently in my class and found a seat in the middle of the second row. 

Students filled in about half the seats by the next ten minutes, mostly further back in the lecture hall. I took out my notebook and pen, quietly waiting until the professor would begin class. Just as I sat back up, the professor shuffled into place at the front projector. He placed the satchel on his shoulder down onto the desk and removed a few of its contents over the tabletop. I couldn’t help but observe him, familiarize him in my mind, as the professor of my elective early British history class. 

He was older, silvery-gold hair curling down to his shoulders, sharp-looking glasses perched at the bridge of his nose, and a good-natured quirk to his lips. A plain button-up shirt was tucked into his well-pressed black trousers and a few thick rings accessorizing his fingers. This kind of professor was usually very passionate in their subjects and fairly understanding to their students, but I took my own judgement with a grain of salt.

The bell rang right at 9:30 and the professor directly faced us, gallantly sauntering over to the center of the room to greet his class:  
“Well good morning class, I commend you all for being up an’ here fairly early. My name’s Robert an’ don’t bother with the ‘professor Plant’ formalities. This is early British history and I hope you all have read over the syllabus already; I’m not going to bore you all readin’ the class schedule. I also didn’t ask you to buy any textbooks for the class since I’ll just post a few documents on the Canvas site for this class to accompany the lectures.

“Anyways, we’ll start today by just discussin’ what we know already about the subject or any extra questions ya might have for me about the class. I’ll let you out early if we get through everythin’ by the end of the hour. Lets get started, raise your hand if you’ve got a question.” 

I sat back, listening through the students’ questions and Robert’s replies. He was a jovial professor and I was clearly right on my early assessment of him, his passion undeniably shining through even on the first day. Most of the first questions students asked were immediately referred to the syllabus. Then people began to ask more personal questions about his experience in the subject, spurring him to ramble on through the hour. The ring of the bell was the only thing that halted his spiel, the brogue in his voice grown thick by the end of the class. 

It was the only class that really interested me that day. My other professors were uptight about classroom rules or bored and monotone as they read out schedules for the class they designed. I came back to my apartment all tense, the heavy backpack finally taking a toll on me from carrying class notebooks, other supplies, and a few of the required textbooks all day. Opening up my laptop, I spent the rest of the afternoon getting an early start on my work.

Part of me hated even thinking about waking up early every morning for the 9:30 class, but I was already sure Robert would make it enjoyable. He began his first official class talking on a background of the Romano-British era within the categories of the social, political, environmental, cultural, and economic factors. I followed along diligently with all his PowerPoint slides and tried to organize my bulleted notes, my hand flying to keep up with the extra details he added in his lecture.

He paused talking about the issue of citizenship in third-century Britain, “What’s your name, love?” 

I looked up as the whole room went silent, wondering who he was talking about. And then I saw that his attention was pointed towards me. I fumbled to place my pen down over my notebook. As I took a moment to sit up properly in place, I noticed that he seemed amused by my obvious demureness.

“Y/N.” I answered and pursed my lips, wondering why he was picking me out in front of the whole class.

“Y/N, lovely.” He remarked to me kindly before stepping back to speak to everyone else. “What a wonderful note-taker, the rest of you should ehm, take notes on Y/N’s example.”   
Robert moved on through the rest of his presentation, ending on the Roman departure from Britain then excusing us all to enjoy the sunshine outside and later read the Groans of the Britons document. I trudged on through the rest of my classes for the day, hoping to every deity out there that they would get better as they progressed.

But everything went the same as it had since the start, Robert’s class being the only one of interest. It even made me question if I could pursue the major I planned on studying, finding it so mind-numbingly boring when I actually delved into it. Sure, I got all my work done for every single course and contributed to online discussion boards to get the best grade I could. But I only enjoyed doing it for one class, and it was Robert’s.

He moved on to the post-Roman period, reciting the then-popular Arthurian tales to the class and even showing a few video clips of film adaptations. I still sat fairly close to the front, making it very easy for him to call upon me again and rouse me into speaking up more. Even if I would shake my head or shrug my shoulders in response to his inquiries, Robert would only point out my informative answers on discussion boards. 

“Don’t make me beg, Y/N. Share your wisdom with the class once more, namely, your eloquent words.” He beseeched with a smiling pout.

“I don’t remember exactly what I said, I posted that response two days ago.” I shrugged.

“Ah, our proud Arianne makin’ everyone have to check the one of the weekly assignments to read over such wonderful insight into the lives of the early Britons.” 

He pivoted around on a foot and continued with his presentation, happily throwing in bits of Lord of the Rings lore. Each time he did it, he made comparisons of the books to the reality they were drawn from and added remarks to himself about it, much to the class’ amusement. It was impossible to resist his obvious charisma, many of the students playing along with his innuendo-riddled statements and the bolder few even hinting at his personal life as there was no ring on his wedding finger. 

During the midterm, I surprisingly finished before the other fifty or so students in the room. I walked up to place the packet onto Robert’s desk at the front of the room, my things collected into my backpack then tossed up over one shoulder. Just as I set the papers down before him and turned to go, Robert quietly asked me to stay behind until everyone else was gone or to meet him at his office later if I had a class to get to now. 

“I’ll meet you there then, will you still be around at two?” I inquired.

“That’s when my office hours usually end but I’ll make an exception for you.” He said with a barely noticeable wink. “Good luck in your other classes today, not that you need it.” 

I waved goodbye as I left the room, an unfading smile across my face while I walked out into the briskly sunny autumn day. Trees lined the red brick buildings with beautiful, warm-colored leaves. Students shuffled about with steaming reusable coffee cups as they rushed off to their next class. The air was fresh and smelled something of the last night’s rain mixed with a hint of lingering cinnamon. It was shaping up to be a fairly nice day.

The time was just a few minutes to eleven, so I got myself some lunch to eat before heading off to my next class at 11:30. Several of the carved cement benches outside were occupied, as were the plain round tables inside. I settled to sneak off into the library where I could skim through an interesting book in the elaborate and darkly beautiful reading room while carefully enjoying my lunch. But as my hands leafed through the chosen collection of sonnets, my mind lingered elsewhere.

What could my professor possibly want from me? I didn’t offer much besides quietly taking notes in class and only making remarks per his whim. It’s not like I was all that familiar with the historical connections between his fascination of Tolkien and the class material. And I certainly had no knowledge of the intricate, old-Britannic poetry he read aloud then translated sometimes.

We got along fairly well, but so did everyone else in the class. He didn’t seem the creepy type, so I tried tucking away that assumption. I would’ve continued thinking through all of this had I not checked the time on my phone and realized I had six minutes to run across the expansive courtyard for my next class. Throwing everything back into my bag, I pushed my chair in and bolted to the classroom. 

The hours went by dully, music on my walks between places being the only thing keeping me moderately energized. Everyone else appeared to have the same zombified appearance with some form of headphones or earpieces speeding up their shuffling feet. But as I double-checked my schedule, a new energy drove me forth and I went to go meet with my favorite professor. Only now could I set my various suspicions to rest.

His office was locked when I first got to the door and I felt disappointed that maybe he forgot to stick around to meet me. After all, it wasn’t part of his regular schedule to stay here this late past the courses he taught. The sinking feeling in my stomach started to urge my feet back down the linoleum hallway until I heard a shuffle behind the door, then the click of unlocking. 

“Hello again, Y/N, close the door behind you an’ come sit over here.” Robert directed as he walked back to the chair behind his desk, glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose and a cup of tea in his hand. 

I followed his request, setting my schoolbag down at my feet and turning to look at him bashfully, “Hi.”

He grinned, “You’re probably wonderin’ why I called you in for a meeting with me an’ I promise it’s nothin’ serious.”

“Oh okay.” I nodded, still unsure at his ambiguity of word choice.

“Your grades are perfect, I won’t chide you for being a quiet person when you’ve made wonderful contributions to the online discussions. You have very good insights in your responses.” He complimented and paused.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but aren’t meetings usually not about just being nice to your student? I’m very flattered that you think highly of me but I’m also a little confused here.”  
He chuckled, “Of course. I’ve perhaps kissed the Blarney stone, got the gift of gab, and can’t seem to stop it, so thank you for keepin’ me on track. Which brings me to my point: would you be interested in bein’ my teaching assistant for the next quarter?”

I was taken aback and backtracked: “Isn’t that job usually for grad students who major in the topic of the class?”

“Sure, but my class is a bit different than say economics or physics, ya don’t have to be absolutely thorough in every detail of the subject. Besides, I can be very convincing to the staff if you want the job. An’ I do mean that it’s an actual job, you get paid for it.”

“But why me?” I asked softly.

There was an endearing shimmer in his eyes as he looked to me, “Why not? You’re a hard worker, you seem to enjoy the class, we seem to get along well… yeah?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“So, would you want to do it? I will warn you, we’ll have to meet like this quite a bit an’ for a while longer than this proposition meeting.” 

“We’ve only been here for about ten minutes I’d hope you dedicate more time to your students’ work.” I quipped.

He sent me a nearly-unnoticed wink, “You’ve got a point there, love. Would you like a few days to think it over?”

“No, I think I’d like to take up your offer now. You mean for me to start next quarter, yes?” 

“Yes, next quarter.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

A smile widened over Robert’s lips, bringing a sparkle to his eyes. “Wonderful news, I’ll have to go speak with the administrators an’ all but you can count on the job. Come meet me again next week, same place and time, we’ll have to go over a few details before the final exams and before I forget.”


	67. off to the races (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "Hi! Idk if you’re taking requests right now, but if you are, may I request a shower sex fic with Jimmy? It can be either silver fox Jimmy or 70s Jimmy. It’s up to you. Thank you!"

It probably wasn’t a good idea to propose hosting a summer family party for all the Page’s on a surprisingly hot day. It also probably wasn’t a good idea to wear the swimsuit I’d chosen, given its more revealing nature. And it certainly wasn’t a good idea to knowingly provoke the patriarch of the house when he couldn’t lay a finger on me. But it sure as hell was fun, initially.

While Jimmy was having an offhand conversation with James amongst the lounge chairs, his eyes began to linger. I could feel his gaze on me the second I pulled the thin fabric covering my swimsuit off, leaving it on a chair before jumping into the cool water of the pool. He perched himself up at the edge of his seat as he watched me and nodded along to whatever his son was saying to him about a work trip he’d taken recently. 

I carelessly floated on my back in the water, my heated skin finally feeling relief in the water. Once I’d paddled around for a while, I leaned up by the lip of the pool’s edge to speak with Zofia and Scarlet. It was surprisingly easy to talk to all of Jimmy’s kids, despite my own hesitance in receiving their reactions at meeting me. But they didn’t seem to care much at all and welcomed me in their circle, actually thanking me for persuading Jimmy into this idea. 

My mind was set on the thought of messing with Jimmy, though, and especially now that James had jumped into the pool with us. I swam over across from where his seat was, pushing myself up and around so I could swivel my hips into sitting on the concrete edge with my feet in the pool. All of us not on lounge chairs struck up a game of water polo, me being appointed to the unbiased goalie. I leaned forward, eagerly watching after the game while being mindful of little bits of body language to tick Jimmy. 

He now had a glass of something in his hand and up to his lips, sipping it as though something troublesome was on his mind. My mission was being well-executed thus far according to his obvious mood, and I basked back in the warm sunlight while Scarlet’s team celebrated their victory over James’. I congratulated them and stood up from my seat, turning to investigate the pretty flower bushes blooming around us with vibrant butterflies floating between them.

I rose up to my tip-toes, carefully leaning over the blaringly hot black iron fence to pluck a single flower by its stem and inhaling its sweet scent as I turned again to the pool scene. Everything had quieted down significantly as everyone resumed either lying back in chairs or swimming a few laps. I walked back with the flower, water droplets dripping down my body and my wet feet smacking down noisily at the pavement. My free hand reached to grab a cheery orange peach from the side table of snacks and drinks, making my way back over to Jimmy. 

There was a spring in my step as I reclined in the chair beside his, placing the flower behind his ear and amongst his un-gathered silvery hair. He seemed unamused. I shrugged and laid back while taking a bite of the peach, its flavor absolutely wonderful and its juice instantly dripping down my arm. From the lack of napkins around, my only option seemed to be licking the trail of sticky sweetness off. This only elicited a huff from my chair neighbor.

“What?” I asked, turning my attention to him once my mouth wasn’t so full and then taking another bite.

"Very brash behavior, in front of family nonetheless."

"I don't really care." I shrugged nonchalantly.

“You’re gonna get it.” He simply stated, drinking down the last bit of his drink.

I cocked my head to the side, lowering my voice so no one else could hear me: “Get a punishment, or get what I want?”

“Depends on what it is that you want.”

“Well, at the moment I think I want a shower. The afternoon sun’s getting a bit too hot for me and I wanna get all this chlorine out of my hair.” I hinted, sliding my legs off the chair and leaving the yard to go find our shower while I finished off the rest of my peach. 

I threw out the pit in the kitchen waste bin and went up the stairs, turning through the labyrinthine hallways of the house to our room. My reply to Jimmy wasn’t a lie – I really did want to rinse myself off and just didn’t mind if he decided to join me. Given his bothered state and the opening click of the doors I’d closed behind me, I knew he would indeed be joining me. A rush pulsed through my veins when I felt a strong grasp pull my torso back against the form of a familiar body. 

“Little troublemaker.” Jimmy growled into my ear. 

I turned my head, our lips a mere inch apart, and declared in a faux-shock: “Me? What have I done?”

He kissed at the corner of my mouth, “You know exactly what you’ve done. You know I enjoy it, darling, but not with all my own kids around.”

“Aww, don’t want them knowing you’re a dirty old man?” I pouted.

His hand smacked a warning over my ass, “Such vulgar words. I don’t know if I can forgive that…”

I kissed him chastely, “Does that make up for it?”

“You taste like a peach, but I’m afraid not Y/N.”

Jimmy had loosened his arm around my hips, giving me ample opportunity to wriggle out of his grasp and slip into the shower as I originally intended to. When I looked back, I saw my favorite expression on his face – desirous, sultry, enigmatic, panther-like. Anticipation was buzzing in my veins and I was merely waiting for him to pounce. I shrugged off my swimsuit more gracefully than I normally would and stepped into the warm shower. 

But he didn’t jump in behind me, just leaned up against the counter with a quiet focus over his features. His eyes adamantly followed my every move while I started reaching for the various fragrant soap bottles. I thought to ignore him and hopefully irritate him enough into joining me, relaxing my muscles under the soothing warmth of the water. Playing a long, drawn-out game certainly wasn’t beneath either of us. 

To counter his silenced distance, I made sure to give him a show even through the fogging glass walls of the shower. My eyes never lingered to him though; I had to wait this out for victory since, after all, appeasement never works. Even so, my shower routine was almost concluded and Jimmy was still standing aloof. The solution was to swallow a morsel of pride, beckon him over, and get what both of us wanted anyways. 

“Did you come in here just to watch?” I questioned over the running water.

“Not initially, but you were a bit too lippy for my taste so I’m waiting this one out.”

“Well, no need to wait anymore. Get your hand out of your shorts and come here already.” 

Jimmy raised his brows in disapproval, “Very bad problem with your mouth today. We’ll have to do something about that, love.”

He was still trying to stretch this out until I snapped, and both of us knew it. Part of me wanted to pull him in here already so we could just get on with it, but that was another victory for him. My preferable move was to play along and Jimmy seemed to want that from me too. 

“Care to elaborate on the subject, Mr. Page?”

“A demonstration may be the most efficient way to pursue this endeavor, that is, if you allow me…?”

“Of course.” 

Finally. The obstinate man took his first steps towards me and pulled open the shower door. My eyes lingered from his face down to a noticeable absence of the poolside attire he’d been wearing before.

“First of all, you’re mistaken about the shorts.” He grinned. “Now turn around, lean against the wall, and open that bratty mouth of yours.”

I pressed my hands up to the cool stone wall and turned my head, beckoning him to do his worst. A hand was firmly placed at my hip while the other probed two fingers between my lips. Rendering the kind of sultry look that I knew would get me into more trouble, I sucked on his fingers and slowly let them drag out of my mouth. I didn’t even jump much when I felt the inevitable, repercussive smack on my ass for doing it. That only seemed to turn him on even more.

Instead of verbally chiding me for enjoying what was supposed to be a punishment, he took it as a challenge. He pinned my wrists behind my back swiftly with one hand. My face and chest were pressed against the cool shower wall, not giving me much to brace myself with. His lips attached to my shoulder and worked at marking it with bruises. 

“Apologize for misbehaving.” Jimmy commanded.

“I’m so- ”

A gasp caught my voice in my throat and my apology turned into a whimper when he pushed into me fully. I tensed at the sudden fullness and my face dragged along the walls with the pace of his hips. Cries echoed louder along the enclosed space of the shower with the pattering water droplets and Jimmy’s occasional, low groans as accompaniment. 

He stopped out of nowhere and grabbed me by the back of the neck, “I don’t think I heard your apology. Don’t make me force it out of you, love.”

“I’m sorry Jimmy,” I rushed out my words. “I’m sorry for teasing you out there and for mouthing off, and not listening.”

“Good. Now don’t make a sound and take everything I give you or I’ll take you over my knee later.”


	68. coming your way (john paul jones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw towards the end, cheating-ish

request: "hiii could you write about a fem reader being in a close relationship with robert, but ends up sleeping with jonesy?"

Robert’s offer to take me along for the tour was very generous, all I had to do was play stylist-PA for the band. We were old friends, with the addition of Bonzo, so he deemed me fairly trustworthy company with the other two guys. I wanted to get out, taste some freedom, see the world a little for a lot cheaper than just marching into the airport. It was a mutually beneficial exchange that I was more than happy to accept, thinking to myself that I got the long end of the stick.

Apparently, it would be easy enough with the Johns each taking care of their own business, Robert just needing his clothes taken to a dry cleaner, and Jimmy who didn’t really bother with the whole cleaning clothes thing until he got home. This was honestly supposed to be Cole’s job, but he was usually too distracted by the girls lining the backstage doors and hotels to get much of anything done. Or at least these were all tidbits of knowledge that Robert and Bonzo informed me of. 

But as I went through that first night of performance, I realized why the offer was so fair. Grant created a to-the-minute schedule that could’ve been easily thrown out the window the minute we stepped into the plane. People were running late, musical stuff was getting cautiously loaded and re-loaded, drinks were already pouring from the bar, chaos was bolting through the whole environment. I anxiously found myself a seat and observed it all going on around me. My two old friends were romping around with roadies while Jimmy made conversation with the flight attended and a drink in his hand. Jonesy, on the other hand, was playing around on the keys of the organ near my seat with an untouched glass of bourbon perched on it. 

Grant gave the warning to sit down and get ready for takeoff, the pilot beginning his usual spiel on the safety features of the plane. Barely anyone actually settled down and merely chose to sit down while their rowdy conversations continued. They got right back up once the plane was up in the air, repositioning themselves over to the tv or to the bar. Jonesy paused and leaned in towards me, likely sensing that I was very much out of place here.

“You alright?” He asked with a friendly smile.

I nodded, “Yeah. I mean I know the scene’s just like this, but I didn’t expect it to kick in right away.”

He chuckled, “It’s not so bad, ‘s all in good fun and you get used to it all.”

“I was told you’re the one who’s staying apart in some cities to avoid ‘it all’ so I’m not sure you’re entirely used to it either.”

“You’ve got a point.” He agreed with a sip of his drink. “How’d Robert get you to agree to nanny us? Y’know, with a sense of responsibility and not the way the other two do it.”

“I wanted to travel and figured it wasn’t a bad way to go. He’s an old friend anyways so I didn’t think he’d make me do anything unreasonable.”

“We’ll try to be good I promise. Cole will have to do any dirty work while Grant will handle business stuff anyways. We’re not unreasonable.” Jonesy smiled.

My nerves eased away a little at his steady compassion and amusement amongst the rest of the crowd in the plane. He was very reassuring, making himself a friend to me with only the few minutes we’d had in each other’s company. Besides, he was right – no reason to be trepidatious of having fun when everyone else was at ease. I slid in beside Jonesy on the bench when he beckoned me closer, asking if I played at all. 

The hours of being aboard the plane passed by faster than I thought they would. We danced around and talked and sang and drank for the first few hours, all being so terribly rowdy the thought of accidentally downing the plane from it crossed my mind once or twice. Once the majority of the party had tired out, we found comfortable seating. Some of us passed out to nap, others quietly spoke, while Jimmy and Robert sat at the tv together. 

I lied down with my head at an armrest on the long velvet-ish upholstery along the wall, Jonesy still at my side and setting my feet over his lap while he held a book up over my ankles. I could hear the murmurs of a conversation between Bonzo and someone else in the background, sitting at the window seats closer to the front. It was far more peaceful now and the dim lighting of the interior only made the whole scene feel much sleepier. 

But I couldn’t fall asleep, not with my excitement of landing in New York and getting to sightsee a little. My eyes landed on my seatmate and I nonchalantly studied him while he read. His hair had a tint of red when the sunlight shining through the small windows hit it, making it look the color of a crimson-gold clover honey. It looked so smooth too, like silk. I wanted to run my fingers through it out of curiosity. His soft expression was cut by his angular cheekbones and lent a boyish charm by his dimples. 

He wore an ankh necklace around his neck, the pendant landing elegantly over the ethereal, see-through material of his white shirt lined with green trees along the sleeves. It was an interesting shirt, certainly not one any of the others seemed likely to wear, and yet he looked so pretty in it. Each of them was stylish and beautiful in their own way, it was like they were destined to become well-known personalities with famous faces. The added bonus was that they were gifted musicians primarily. It was a strange realization I’d never had before until this moment when I actually spent time with them in their semi-professional environment. How lucky I was to have my stars align like this. 

Jonesy placed a finger into the book to mark his place as he closed it and turned to look at me, “You know there’s a bed here right? If you’re tired you can go in there and don’t worry, the old sheets were burned and replaced with brand new ones.”

“I don’t know, it’s fi- ” I yawned, halting my sentence and proving me utterly mistaken. “ -fine.”

“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you if you keep refusing.”

“Fine.” I huffed languidly, slowly shifting my feet off his lap and down to the floor so I could get up onto my feet.

My hand was taken within his and he guided me to the back bedroom, which smelled sharply of cleaning supplies. I didn’t even really get a good look at it since it was dark and Jonesy postured me down over the blankets, pulling them up to my waist. He brushed a hand along my face and requested that I go to sleep, assuring that he’d guard the door against the pranking or roughhousing of the others, should they liven up again. I drifted away peacefully to the drone of the plane engine. 

Only several hours later did I wake up, surprisingly falling so deeply asleep that I didn’t notice being carried off the plane and into the cars then dropped off into my hotel room. I sat up disoriented, seeing 2:18 am on the bedside clock and moonlight glowing between the curtains. My luggage was stacked by the tv set. Sliding off the edge of the bed, I rubbed my eyes and lingered over to the bathroom to brush my teeth of the dry taste in my mouth. Not even five minutes later did a knock sound at my door and I went to answer it, seeing a weary Robert on the other side. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice croaking.

“Nothin’, just wanted to check on you. We share a wall so I heard you shufflin’ around the bathroom and came over. Jonesy was worried since you didn’t wake up earlier when he tried to shake you on the plane.” 

“I’m fine, just fucked up my sleeping schedule though.” I chuckled dryly.

“Don’t worry about it, we usually end up staying awake late most nights anyways. I think Jimmy’s still up in his room and Bonzo’s, well, you can hear ‘im down the hall with Cole. Just make sure you’re downstairs and ready to go by four.” 

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be up before then probably, I wanna walk around the city a bit.”

“Take one of us with you, that way we can make sure we don’t lose you.” Robert advised, already walking back towards his door.

“Sure, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Y/N!” He whisper-yelled before getting back into his room.

I sat up for a while, creating a mental agenda for sightseeing over the duration of an hour or so while changing out of my rumpled clothes. Crawling back into bed, I relaxed into the crisp, clean sheets and fell back asleep in the dark again. I had a feeling that this tour was going to leave me exhausted.

My day re-started around six hours later, the sun now fully out over the New York cityscape and calling me outside. The potential of adventure promised to me by this view exhilarated me, doing away with the sleepiness of travel that muddled my schedule earlier. I swung my feet out of bed, dressed myself in the first outfit I dug up from my suitcase, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and went right out the door with the room key in-pocket. 

The hallway was empty as I made my way through it, remembering Robert’s words of advice and also reminding myself of the purpose of my tagging along. I knocked at Peter’s door to question if there was anything for me to do today, only to be brushed off and urged to get some breakfast before I left. From our exchange, he seemed to be far kinder in a protective, parental way than he looked. I kept that in mind as I came to my next stop: back towards my room at Robert’s door. 

There was a rasp in his voice and a lazy, friendly smile on his face when he finally answered it, “Good morning again, love.”

“Hi, I was gonna ask you to be a tourist with me but I think I better leave you to rest before the show.”

“No, no, ‘s fine. Just give me like twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded, welcoming me inside and seating me at the foot of his disheveled bed. Luckily, Robert had already donned a pair of jeans, so I didn’t have to awkwardly turn away as he got ready in the bathroom with the door wide open. His fingers styled his hair carelessly, smoothing down or fluffing it up as he saw fit. An actually buttoned-up blouse loosely covered his torso and he donned an arrowhead necklace before declaring that he was ready to go.

Robert’s hands pushed me along in front to lead the way, since this excursion was indeed my idea, and he followed along behind me like a shadow. We didn’t get a chance to sneak through the larger museums since the lines were fairly long and my accomplice was avoiding recognition as much as he could. But we strolled through Central Park, took the subway around to the artists’ regions, ventured into a few interesting shops, and had lunch in China town. Along the way, I grabbed a camera to take photos with and documented the beautiful things we saw: views of the city, intricate architecture details on the buildings, pretty shops, flowers blooming in the grass, delicacies in bakery windows. Robert made faces at me any time I pointed it towards him so I gave up on the endeavor after a while. In turn, he snatched up the camera and took a million photos until there was no available film left in it.

By the end of the excursion, I was an art history book richer and, out of spite, Robert decided to purchase himself a new necklace that I initially said looked a bit ridiculous. Now that he was wearing it, I continued to shake my head and chuckle at the bright purple clashing against the burnt red-orange shade of his shirt. It honestly wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a victory. We decided to let Bonzo decide as a relatively impartial party once we got back, though I knew he’d take the piss and side with me just to mess with Robert. 

Once we made it back up to the tour crew’s floor in the hotel, both of us practically tip-toed past Peter’s door to avoid the risk of a lecture for staying out too late when there was a concert to prepare for. Oddly enough, it wasn’t him who was waiting for us as though sitting on pins and needles – it was Jonesy who flew out of his room and held an inquisition for us in the hallway. Where had we gone? Did we even tell Peter? What if we got lost? Would we really risk cancelling a show just to go sightsee? 

“Calm down, Jones, we’re back and unscathed from the dangerous streets of New York.” Robert chuckled. 

“Whose idea was this anyways?” He inquired sharply.

“Mine, Robert just advised me against going alone so we left together and made sure to return hours in advance. Really, I don’t understand why you’re so angry about it.”

“Because something easily could’ve happened. You can’t just take a walk around the block? Or ask someone a little more responsible than Robert to go with you?”

“Hey!” The singer protested.

“We were fine, nothing happened, and we’re perfectly safe now with three hours until we have to go.” I reminded. “What would you like me to do? Stay locked up in the hotel all day or take you along?”

“Either one.” He sighed, pacing down the hall to his room as if burning off the steam of worry that’d plagued him the whole time we were gone for. 

Once he was out of earshot and the door to his room was shut, Robert gave me a surprised look: “Well, that was unexpected.”

“You did say that he was the most ‘parental’ of the group.”

“Well yeah, but not in a scolding way. He’s just got a cleverer way of doing what the rest of us do.”

“Weird. I guess you better get ready for the show before he comes back out here to tell us we’re wasting time or anyone else gives us a lecture. Sorry for getting you in trouble, Robert.”

“You’ve been doin’ it all your life, why start apologizing now?” He teased, tongue sticking out as a goodbye before closing himself up in his room.

I spent my next couple hours mostly reading the books I’d brought along with me, only freshening up about fifteen minutes before we were set to meet in the hallway. There wasn’t really a reason for me to be joining them backstage besides for wardrobe malfunctions, mostly due to Robert’s taste in incredibly tight pants that needed patches every so often. I suppose this was a welcoming gesture and educational for how things worked on tour. Part of me expected to see them bursting with excitement, only to be proven very wrong upon seeing grumpy looks on all their somewhat-groomed faces.

The ride to the venue was also just as tense, the conversations terse and sparse. Things only seemed to change when the cars stopped at the backstage area to let them out – a crowd separate from the other fans lining up here while bolstering conversations from the other side of the building could be heard. From this brief glance at it, this would be quite a sizeable audience and the band had a fair share of company awaiting them before they even started the show. It was truly a different world full of strange, inexplicable dynamics with people not directly inside of it. 

Following the road crew, I stepped inside without paying any attention to the strangers lined up outside the backstage doors calling to the boys. I noticed later that some of the luckier people were invited back with us, mostly under Jimmy or Robert’s arms. The guests had to be shooed to the side when I checked in with each of them about whether they had any requests for me before the show started. Robert gave me a quick shake of the head, still sporting the silly necklace he bought in the afternoon with me. Bonzo answered similarly, merely telling me I had nothing to worry about besides tending to the laundering aftermath tomorrow. 

Jimmy, was a bit more interesting to deal with since his idea was to, “Wait until someplace later to clean the majority of it and it could pile up in the suitcase for now.”

“You can’t be serious.” I shook my head, the secondhand embarrassment making me very glad his guests weren’t in the dressing room at the moment.

“Why not? You’re going to deal with it anyways so you can just put it off then do it all in one go later.”

“Jimmy, it’s going to reek like sweat and get worse if you make me put it off. Let me do it tomorrow.” 

“Fine but be careful with that and I want it back in the afternoon.”

I sighed leaving his dressing room, amazed at his lack of trust with people in regard to his belongings and his childish stubbornness. My hope now was to ease up his habit and also that Jonesy would be easier to deal with now that some hours had gone by. I had some faith in this endeavor since freaking out as he did before apparently wasn’t something he usually did, as per Robert’s words. His dressing room was also comparatively neater and quieter than the other three’s. 

He noticed me standing in the doorway and flashed a small smile in greeting, immediately standing up to speak before I could: “Sorry for what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to sound harsh at all.”

“Don’t worry about it, you were just concerned about the schedule.”

“To an unreasonable degree, as you both were perfectly fine and were back in your rooms hours before we had to leave. I owe you an apology.”

“Alright, I accept it.” I shrugged. “Anything you need me to do now or after the show?”

Jonesy began to ramble absentmindedly rather than reply: “Well, it was because I was worried for you. I can tell you’re responsible and all but… I’m not sure how to properly describe it, something just made me concerned that you were just gone like that. Robert’s not exactly the wisest accomplice…”

“I understand, nice of you to be concerned. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh sorry, everything’s fine and I can take care of anything myself. Don’t want to bother you when I’ve done more than enough of that already.”

“It’s my job and the reason why I’m here, plus I already forgave you. I’m not just here on vacation.”

“Right, I know that but don’t worry about my things, I’ll still take care of it all.”

“Okay…” I trailed off, pivoting around on my feet to leave his room only to be called back.

“Y/N!”

“Yeah?” I turned my head.

“I just remembered something: you’ll have to come back to the hotel with me after the show, unless you’ve got other obligations.”

“Alright, sure.”

“So try to stand by my side of the stage, that way you can just follow me back easier.” He instructed as I nodded in confirmation and left him to get ready in peace. 

The backstage area had grown frantic as the concert time drew near; everyone was pacing about trying to help things go along smoothly and shouting boomed down the expansive halls. No surprise, things ended up just fine and I was ushered over behind the stage left curtain to be an easy reach for Jonesy. I wished him luck as a roadie bestowed one of his basses onto his shoulders and he replied with a smile, walking out into the unlit stage with his bandmates following suit on the opposite side. 

As expected, seeing them live was like a profound religious experience. The ocean of people extending far out beyond what I could see in the dark seemed to agree too. My heart started pounding the minute I heard Bonzo test out his kit with a few hits to his snare and bass, then didn’t rest for the entirety of the show. It was an impossible-to-describe amalgamation of the four of them imbedded into the music. There was peace, there was flare, there was darkness, there was light, there was soft, there was rough, there was medieval, there was blues, there was innovation, there was tradition. It invaded every pore, saturated the tissue of the heart, and captured the eyes. 

I was left standing in a daze when it ended, applause showering from the audience as the boys waved their goodbyes to them and stepped off the stage. My body felt numb and my feet didn’t seem able to move from their post of two-and-a-half-hours. Jonesy only seemed amused when he looked to me, taking my hand and pulling my head out of the hazy post-show clouds. I trailed after him to the dressing room, down the hall, out the door, and into a car. Only when the car started moving did I remember that I hadn’t said a word to praise either Robert, Bonzo, or Jimmy. 

“Well, how’d you find it? Your eardrums aren’t blown out?” 

“Incredible, I’m not surprised that you guys are so successful. And no, my hearing’s just a little fuzzy but not gone.”

He chuckled, “Thank goodness for that, and that’s very kind of you to say.”

“So, what am I looking at once we get back?”

“Ah,” He glanced forward through the windshield and shifted up in his seat, “You’ll see when we get back. Nothing drastic.”

“Okay.”

We chatted more casually along the ride, getting to know each other more since our time on the plane was cut off by my sleepiness. He told me about his wife and kids, his home, new instruments he had his eyes on, the most interesting stories of his music work. I told him about my career aspirations, other music I liked, my connection with Robert and Bonzo more, then shared embarrassing stories about them. Jonesy kissed the back of my hand as a token of gratitude for giving him more material to taunt them with. 

He took that same hand and walked to the elevators with me, taking me up to his room to investigate this matter that sought my attention. I was positioned by the foot of the bed while he placed his suitcase over it and rifled through his belongings, pulling a marigold yellow paisley button-up out of the stacks. His fingers delved underneath the hem, probing for a hole along the seams until he found it.

“See? No big deal.”

“You want me to stitch it up now or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s fine, you’re probably tired out and the light’s not as good now.” Jonesy assured. “But there’s something else I’d like to ask you, off-record.”

“Go for it. I’m not a journalist, so I’m never on-record.”

He laughed dryly to himself at my reply but sighed before asking his question: “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

I was taken aback by his request. Part of me wanted to tell him to get on with it because this was all it took for me to be sure I really did like him as much as he seemed to like me. But he spoke to me about his family not even an hour ago, this would be wrong… right? There was a lump in my throat when I realized I actually had to answer him.

“Jone- John, as much as I want to say yes- ”

“You’re worried about me being unfaithful and your having to do with it?”

I nodded, holding my hesitant tongue.

“First, I’m not as bad as your friends. Second, don’t worry about it at all because it’s my burden to bear entirely. Third, Mo might not say it but she sure as hell knows I don’t stay locked up alone in my room every night of the tour. She’s understanding.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not a groupie in one city who you’ll never see again. I’m going to come along the whole way and might be back in the future too...”

“I’m sure, and I know.”

“It’s just that I don’t want to be a mistress or cause problems between you and her or whatever else.”

“Now it’s you who has to relax.” Jonesy teased. “Everything’s fine, all I’m asking for is your permission.” 

My voice fell silent while my thoughts rushed to find a conclusion. I was searching for any new reason to make me say no when my heart was screaming in my chest to give him consent. When I looked up into his eyes to give him a genuine, though weak, plea to convince me against it, my resolve melted like a sugar cube in hot water. I couldn’t hold myself back.

“Yes.” I finally answered in a hushed tone.

“Are you sure? I’m not forcing you at all.” He confirmed.

“Yeah, more than sure. There’s not a single thing I can think of that makes me want to say no and I want you to.”

His pink lips curled into a smile while his hand reached over my ear, drawing me nearer. John looked so happy, his fingertips were rough, he smelled like sweet sweat mixed with cigarettes and a hint of pot, his lidded eyes shone darkly like the night sky, and I was doomed. From just an innocent touch of a collision, I was already drunk on the taste of him. But it wasn’t enough for either of us and we pursued more. I felt the touch of his other hand linger along my waist and his lips press deeper into mine, making me lean in towards him. It felt like I was melting in place, my frame becoming easier to mold in his hands than putty. The electrified, pouring rainfall of a great storm flooded through my stomach harder than any flutters of butterfly wings I’d felt before. My head was spinning out of my body and yet I felt grounded, present to feel every moment of this dreamlike reality.

John leaned back slowly as they do in movies, his lungs inhaling breath against my own chest and pulling me by the hand to sit down at the foot of his bed with him. I was turned flush to him, my eyes wide with wonder and hope that I could taste heaven again. My impatience worked to fulfill that hope and I reached for him, kissing him just as deeply as before while I shifted to straddle his lap. John didn’t seem to mind since his hands roped around my torso and pulled me in closer.

My lips descended down to the corner of his mouth, his jaw, then lower along his neck. He leaned his head over to grant me better access and his hands grasped at my ass, spurring me to keep going. I urged him to lie back against the mattress while I continued my path from his shoulders down to the buttons of his sheer white shirt, undoing each one and planting a kiss in its place. He held my hand the whole way along, holding it up to his lips and murmuring encouragements to me as I skimmed lower along his torso. Once I made it to the very last button, he became even more responsive and pleaded that I kept going.

But I wanted to push him a little. After all, why should John have all the fun when he was the one who initiated this and was far less hesitant about it? So I only pushed the flimsy fabric of his shirt apart and off his shoulders, lying down at his side as a not-so-subtle hint. The shirt was completely discarded as he quickly caught on and was more than eager to begin undressing me in the most tantalizing way I’d ever imagined. His fingertips were like tiny matchstick flames dancing along the skin he’d expose with every movement.   
He touched cautiously at first, like he was afraid of getting fingerprints on a treasured item or that I was made up of something more delicate than glass. It was cool, drawn-out, and graceful – not at all something I expected from someone who just performed brash music to thousands of people and was probably fairly tired. But he took his time and gradually went harder to create a sense of contrast that I couldn’t help but impulsively respond to. His fingers started to press into my skin, grasping roughly at my heated skin and soothing it with his lips.

As he hooked a finger around the waist of my underwear, he looked back up to me: “Do you still want me to keep going?”

My voice was caught in my chest seeing him actually about to touch me and somehow this not being a dream. I didn’t need a single second to think about an answer; I was practically itching for him to keep going.

“Please don’t stop.” I requested, my tone far softer than I anticipated.

He grinned, “I think I like it when you ask for it. Do it again and I just might reward you, Y/N.”

I made sure to put on a show this time around and pleaded once more, earning the promised reward instantly as the last of my clothes were tossed aside. It was so quixotic that my mind was lost up in the clouds of my own bliss and I still couldn’t believe this was real. The combination of his rose-petal lips, liquid velvet tongue, and highly-skilled fingers was easily my undoing. And yet I wanted more.


	69. tour schedule (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader who's also a guitarist  
> Warning: nsfw-ish towards the end

request: "hey idk if your reqs are open or not, but could you write something about jimmy and his fem! s/o who is also the leader/guitarist of a rock band?"

When my upcoming tour list was sent over to me, I was surprised at the fairly wide gaps between dates and took it over to Jimmy as a second pair of eyes to make sure this was as weird as I thought. He was mindlessly occupying himself with something in an adjacent room and blankly stared at the page before realizing what it was. I stood with my arms crossed and felt very confused, but he was smiling widely when he read over it. Jimmy’s eyes flickered back up to me with an impish gleam.

“I see you’ve caught onto my plan.” 

“No, wait, you had something to do with this?” 

“Of course, Peter’s very helpful in fulfilling my every request.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

He put the agenda down and fixed his posture, “Well we always have conflicting tour dates and end up in different corners of the globe all the time so I figured I’d change that. Your schedule mirrors mine and we can be in the same cities together.”

“Why didn’t Peter talk to me about it? He knows he doesn’t only manage one band and you’re a client, not a privileged child that always gets his way.”

“’Cause I’m his favorite.” He looked to me with a comical pout and batted his eyes, “Have I upset you?”

I rolled my eyes and snatched the paper from his lap, “You look so stupid when you do that, Jimmy.”

“Why should I care if I still get what I want?” He challenged.

“You’re so incorrigible, I’d be happy knowing we’d be together the whole time if you weren’t so goddamn cocky about pilfering through my business and actually asked about it instead of sneaking off to Peter.”

With a sigh, I wandered back to the pile of mail on the kitchen counter only to be startled by the surprisingly strong grip of Jimmy’s slim arms around my waist and the feeling of his frame up against mine. His hair tickled the exposed skin of my neck as I turned my head to face him, an unimpressed expression masking my true reaction while an explosion of butterflies filled my stomach. I could feel his warm breath and velvet lips against the shell of my ear, which certainly didn’t help my weakening desire to push him away.

“I’m sorry, darling, I should’ve asked. Can I make it up to you since it’s too late to switch dates around?”

“Depends on what you’re offering.” I countered.

He kissed my neck dutifully, “Anything you wish for.”

“Really? Can I steal one of your guitars then?”

“No, but I’ll settle for performing a little guitar duet arrangement with you.”

“My shows or yours?”

“Both.”

“That makes up for a third of this list.” I remarked, remaining standoffish.

He whined at my reply and petulantly beseeched me of my other requests, refusing to let me go until I answered. Enjoying this far too much, I began a list of the most incredulous and ridiculous things I could. Jimmy couldn’t tell if I was serious and pulled away with an exasperated scoff, showing me his not-so-eager face. I bit back a laugh as I kept listing things off so he’d see I was joking.

“…and you’ll have to massage my hands after each show since they get so sore, and let me steal your jewelry, and go sightseeing with me, and not go to any of the parties, at least without me, and- ”

“So greedy… I regret this already.” He shook his head with faux-annoyance.

“Fine. Just a few of those things, the duet performances, and I’ll think of something else.”

“What if I predicted this to happen and got you something already?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

Jimmy requested that I stay put as he dashed down the hallway and up the stairs and then somewhere on the second floor and slammed the door shut behind him and more carefully jogged back down to where I stood in the kitchen. My eyes immediately caught onto the object in his hands, my jaw dropping instantly. I shook my head in disbelief and looked up to him, trying to stutter out a sentence about me just joking about all this until he just shushed me.

"I was going to give this to you as a peace offering or good luck with the new tour, just not so soon."

The familiarly-shaped matte leather case was carefully lied down on the counter, the latches clicked, and his hand pulled it open. I didn’t know how he predicted this scenario so accurately, nor how he knew exactly what I had my eye on for the past few months when I hadn’t said anything about it. Inside the case was a beautiful, shining, masterpiece of a guitar with an extra set of amps I’d been wanting to experiment with. 

My hands reached over it, too afraid to get my fingerprints on it and spoiling its perfection. It was even better than when I’d seen it in magazine photos and I think I must’ve teared up a little. I couldn’t wait to use all this new equipment and test it all out. My hands still hadn’t touched the instrument and just hovered shakily above, causing Jimmy to laugh at my reaction from over my shoulder. I would’ve given him a playful smack on the arm if I didn’t want to jump his bones so badly.

“Is this good enough to cover the rest of the inconvenience I’ve cost you, Y/N?”

I shut the case cautiously and pivoted around to him: “It’s more than enough, so I think I’d like to show my appreciation for being so flexible about this whole ordeal.”

He quirked his brow out of curiosity and limply followed along as I pulled him back up the stairs behind me, down the hall, then through the ajar bedroom doors. I released my clasp on his wrist as I propelled him to sit back against the made bed. Jimmy quietly watched, waiting for things for me to be more detailed with my intent before playing along with my narrative. 

“What are you up to, my dear?” He inquired while my back was turned to him and my hands dug through the bureau drawers. 

“I already told you… and the rest is a surprise.”

“Aww, the student’s become the master.” 

“And I was taught by the best. Now if you don’t mind, Mr. Page, lie back for me and I’ll test out which of your little accessories we should bring along for our synchronized touring schedule.”


	70. professor au pt.2 (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: professor!robert plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: asked by some people on tumblr!

The remainder of the class went by smoothly and I was given a full 100% after finals. Robert would have weekly meetings with me, mostly discussing the schedule of the class and coming up with a few new additions to make his class more enjoyable. The last few meetings we had, however, lasted for several hours on more personal topics and I got to learn a lot about him. 

After a refreshingly uneventful winter break, I was excited to come back and work with Robert as well as to take more interesting classes this quarter. My energy was refreshed after finally having a break from constant studying and sitting through lectures so I had high ambitions to do even better this quarter. Maybe I’d get some help from Robert with classes, at least if he knew the professors of the other classes. When I walked into the auditorium to begin my TA work, he greeted me warmly: with a comforting embrace and pressing a kiss to my cheek. 

“How was your break, darlin’?” 

“Good, how about you?”

“Not too bad, went back to my old home and saw some family friends. I hope you’re ready to get started with all the student work.”

“Of course, I’m just happy I don’t have to lecture.” 

Robert chuckled and turned on his class-themed playlist of medieval music while students started shuffling into the seats of the lecture hall. He got started with the ring of the bell and I got the perfect vantage point for watching him enthusiastically teach his class. His hands gesticulated fervently while he bantered with the students just like he had with my class last quarter. He introduced me as well, much too flatteringly for my taste and leaving me standing with a stupid, blushing smile on my face.

I couldn’t seem to look away from him, seeing the energetic glow in his expression and how inexplicably nice he was to me. A thought popped up in my mind about this whole ordeal and I immediately tried to push it away, not wanting to dwell on whether it was true. Sure, I wasn’t Robert’s student anymore but getting involved with him as his TA didn’t seem any more legal. Besides, he was nice to everyone so I was just imagining things that would never happen. No matter how much I tried reasoning myself out of thinking this way, a strange feeling settled in my chest.

We would spend quiet afternoons grading papers or discussing class content, Robert sometimes surprising me with my favorite drink from the student coffee shop. I would sit hunched over the one side of his desk while he leaned back in his seat with his feet propped up on the other side of the desk. Occasionally, I’d think that I caught him observing me then brush it off by mentally noting that I was just reading too much into everything. He’d coerce me into taking breaks with his queries and banter, distracting me from the pile of papers that were making me see lines of text even if I looked away from them. After hours passed, Robert would always offer to take me home since the sky would be dark.

When I’d get home and finally finish up with my own assignments, my thoughts were consumed with him. More specifically, what sort of dynamic we had with each other. Not professional, that was for sure. Definitely friendly. Anything further? That was a matter of debate. Nothing ever happened to confirm it, but I sometimes would think maybe his intentions crossed that line only to question it later. Again, just chalking it up to me wishing for more and reading too far into the naturally flowing euphemisms from his mouth.   
My new idea, however, was to test this subject and confirm whether or not it was just me. Reciprocating his own slightly-beyond-friendly nature and trying to be more blatant in my ideas should do the trick in establishing where exactly we were in this ordeal. It wouldn’t be too brash, but just enough to hopefully trigger a response from him. I hatched out a small plan for tomorrow’s meeting and picked out a slightly more stylish ensemble than I’d usually wear to accompany it. My mind replayed my plan as I drifted off to sleep later   
on in the night. 

Robert’s class went by as usual – medieval music, excited lectures with Tolkien tidbits mixed in, students joking around with him, him bringing me into his hypothetical situations, warm flush over my face when he’d beckon a reply from me, and the bell bringing it all to an end. I followed him back to his office in an adjacent building and set my own bag of supplies neatly down onto the floor. He settled into his seat behind the desk and pulled out all the new papers.

I got started on my plan after taking in a breath of courage. Before sitting down, I reached for half of the paper stack, “accidentally” knocking it off to the side and a few fell to the floor. I mumbled an apology as I bent over with my backside to him, making sure to theatrically lean down to pick up the papers and straighten back up. His eyes flickered up to mine when I turned to face him and there seemed to be a surprise reflecting in them. He cleared his throat and suggested I take my seat, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his lips.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I sat postured and glanced through the papers with the non-writing end of my grading pen tracing my lower lip. I bit back a grin when I felt his gaze still fixed on me. Maybe my plan really would be as successful as I’d hoped last night. Only way to find out was to keep going at it and drive him to that point of having to ask me or act on what he truly wanted here. I got through my stack of papers and looked to him, noticing him still stuck on that first one. 

“Are you alright, Robert?” I asked with a delicate concern and doe eyes.

“Y-Yeah, just fine. I’m, uh, not entirely sure what sort of grade to give this student. That’s all.”

“Oh, maybe I should look over it.” I stood up and swung myself over the edge of his desk to stand directly at his shoulder.

I made sure to lean into him slightly and ghost my hand over his own while glancing over the student’s words. It was a fairly insightful paper, but my focus was on the man sitting at my side. He stiffened at my touch, as did a certain region situated lower in his chair. I didn’t draw back but let my hand slide down over the arm of his chair, just above his thigh.

“It’s good. I think it should get full credit.” 

“Alright, I trust your judgement. Thank you, love.”

“Of course, I’m here to help you however I can, Robert, and you’ve been more than kind to me.” I remarked, adding emphasis to the ‘however I can’ part.

“I’m very lucky to have so much of your time. Though I find this a little troublesome at times like these.”

“Oh really? How so?” I cocked my head, looking down at him while he turned his head up almost against my torso to look me in the eye.

Robert quirked his brow, “You are aware of what you’re doing, right?” 

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about, sir.”

“Well, to cut to the chase, has it occurred to you that I’ve had a tough time keeping my hands off you?”

I smiled, that was a far better response than I could’ve imagined. Of course I knew what I was doing – I planned this out last night and specifically thought of how to try eliciting this reaction from him. Just because I’m a quieter person, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with people. Either way, I was very happy with my victory here and I was fairly sure he knew that I had been messing with him today.

“Well then, by all means, no need to keep your hands to yourself. You’ve got my full permission.” I replied with a cool nonchalance. 

His hands reached over my hips and gently urged my up onto his desk, “You’re quite the troublemaker, Y/N. Always such a sweet little tease, but today you’ve been even worse.” 

I kicked my shoes off and postured myself up over his desk to play up the role, “Oh really? I’m terribly sorry, professor.”

“I’ll let you off easy with a warning an’ next time I won’t be so ni- ”

Robert’s words were cut off when I dangled my foot down and trailed it up his thighs to make him reconsider his statement. He gave me a warning look regarding the threat he just made, but I only smiled and continued my journey higher, teasing him along the in-seam of his sharp black trousers. His legs slowly moved to part in his seat, which granted me more space to work with and I took full advantage of it. Robert didn’t seem to mind at all, by the looks of it, and wasn’t making good on his promise to “not be so nice” should I dare to purposely tease him again.

His mouth quirked up to one side in a satisfied smile while his eyes fell hooded and brows furrowed upward. I could feel him reacting against the touch of my foot too, the subtle synchronization of his own hip movement to gain more friction against me. I redirected his attention when my hand reached down to touch myself while I was at it, earning a tortured whine from Robert. 

“You put on a very good show, Y/N.” He remarked in a rich tone.

“Thank you, professor.” I smiled sweetly.

“…very good, but you’re still in trouble with me.” He concluded, wrapping a hand over my ankle then reaching for the other one to pull them apart. 

I let him position me however he wished and leaned back against the desk, “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Should I take you over my knee or eat you out right here on top of my desk when you can’t make a single noise?”

A pulse fluttered through my torso at his filthy words and the feeling of his hands prying my legs apart. This worked out far better than I imagined, so I honestly didn’t care what he chose to do as long as he didn’t leave me hanging. I shrugged my shoulders at his question and merely reached my hands to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head. I earned a very pleased grin from him, his hands shifting up to roam along my chest then back to my ass and pull me closer to the edge of his desk abruptly. 

“For being such a good girl, I think I’ll go with the latter option.” He reasoned, pushing the hem of my skirt up my thighs and pulling the slit of my panties of to the side with his hooked finger. “Such a pretty little thing you are, Y/N.”

I felt a tremble run down my spine as I watched him lean forward, tilting his face up to be level with my thighs. His lips attached to my skin and dotted kisses higher up my leg, like a pleasurable snail trailing over the skin at a torturously slow pace. I wanted to draw my legs back together and savor the tingling, electrified heat pulsing through my veins but I resisted the impulse so Robert could continue. It was bliss like I’d never felt before and he’d barely even started. 

He gave me a look, staring me directly in the eye as his tongue darted out to deliver an experimental lick and sending a feeling of molten lava seeping through the pit of my stomach. My lips parted and my breaths grew shorter already, anticipating what was to come with his fingers spreading my folds further to delve deeper into me. I sucked in a breath and cupped a hand over my mouth to keep quiet. 

“You really are a sweet girl, Y/N.” He commented, a sheen of wetness glistening over his smirking lips.

I whined weakly into my hand when he began lapping at my core again. His rough fingertips only enhanced the sensation, probing and smoothing over just the right places in accompaniment to his tongue. My chest was starting to heave for air as I felt myself get closer and closer to climaxing, right there amongst the students’ papers over the edge of his sturdy desk. It felt filthy, but there was no reason in the world I’d want him to stop when it felt so good. 

“Such a good girl – already so soaked. But that’s enough punishment for today, darling.” He pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

My body froze in place, disappointment flooding through me at having to end here when my desire for him was riding so high. Robert seemed to note my hesitance, smiling up at me then fixing my panties and skirt back into place with a teasing smack over my now-clothed core. I jolted in place and slowly moved to cross my legs before him.

“Don’t worry, I’m inviting you home with me.” Robert explained.

“Ohhhh… then I’m more than happy to continue this elsewhere so neither of us gets caught in the act.” 

“Glad to hear it, would you like to stop by your home to gather a few things? I don’t plan on kicking you out in the middle of the night and I hope you’d like to stay ‘til morning.” He informed, leaning forward to kiss to my knee and offering my a hand to help me off his desk.


	71. passing the time (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: 80s/90s jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw-ish maybe
> 
> a shot little two-for-one that i struggled with for a while

requests: "Hiii can I request an imagine with like 80s or 90s jimmy where you guys are married and have younger kids and you guys are trying to have sex without getting caught by them? I love your blog sooo much ❤️❤️" & "Might be a strange request but can u do a hot night with Jimmy where it’s like a special occasion for u two"

A few friends had offered to watch the kids overnight when Jimmy or I mentioned our anniversary was coming up, though neither of us was wise enough to accept the offer. Somehow, we thought it wouldn’t be an issue to have them gallivanting around after us like boisterous shadows. And it wasn’t an issue for the first several hours of the day while we granted ourselves a slow morning. 

Bouquets of fresh-cut flowers and pieces of occult memorabilia awaited Jimmy in the kitchen when we finally descended from the comfort of our bedroom with the kids at our feet. The happily surprised expression on his face was priceless and he even let James carefully flip through the books to look at the illustrations. It also led him to not-so-subtly whisper a filthy threat into the shell of my ear as a promise for later in the day. 

The enthusiastic children beseeched their father to show us all what he’d gotten for me, to which he answered vaguely in a perplexing enough way that they didn’t understand while I caught onto it quite easily. Jimmy did show them pretty stone jewelry that he bought during the previous round of touring, each with a symbolism that he had to explain to me. Believer in the stones’ properties or not, his well-wishing and kind heart were plainly seen by my appreciative eyes. I thanked him with my lips instead of words, allowing him to eagerly decorate my neck with a beautiful amethyst piece on a silver chain.

He leaned in to whisper again: “I want you to keep this on all of today. Got it?”

I nodded with a smile edging at the corners of my lips. He pressed a kiss to my temple as James beckoned his attention, asking his father to show him the book again. Instead, Jimmy persuaded the kids all off to the living room to watch a movie and requested that I put the book up on his nightstand so he’d remember to read it. I knew that there was more to his statement and calmly headed up the stairs to our room, placing his book where he desired then seating myself at the side of the bed. 

As expected, he joined me less than five minutes later while the kids still sitting downstairs and likely too enthralled in the fantasy world of the movie to notice us gone. He swept over me like a gust of wind, swaying me perfectly into his arms and against his firm frame. His lips peppered kisses and his teeth occasionally grazed across the skin of my throat while the burning touch of his expert fingertips brushed across the bare skin beneath my shirt. I tangled my fingers through his hair and tugged on the curls just the way that drove him mad.

“Mm, you know better than to do that when we’re trying to be quiet.” He warned hotly into my ear.

“Right now, Jimmy… I don’t give a fuck.” I confessed quietly between breaths. 

He nipped harder at my collarbone, “If that’s how you feel…”

Where Jimmy’s voice trailed off, his actions continued. His hands grasped wherever they pleased and pulled the clothes off my body before I could notice their absence. His tongue licked hot stripes up my bare skin until I was nearly trembling beneath him. His beautiful eyes darkly studied my every reaction, drinking in every little inflection of bliss reflecting in my face. His finger caught onto the chain of the necklace he'd given me to urge my head up closer, connecting our lips and tongues in a silent, unchoreographed dance. It was like a ritual of worship.


	72. rainy day house (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: john paul jones x reader  
> Warnings: a little hinted nsfw, and sorry it's so short

request: "imagine spending a rainy day with jpj🥰"

I rolled out of bed early in the morning, oddly refreshed from my rest within Jonesy’s arms with the two of us buried underneath a thick blanket. The air chilled my skin but I nonetheless ventured down to the kitchen, setting a kettle of tea to boil on the stove top. My arms crossed over my chest, huddling in any heat towards my body and glancing out the rain-spotted kitchen window.

Dew beaded over the springy green blades of grass and in the distance, I only saw a grey silhouette of the forest through the clouds of fog. I noticed a deer slowly wander through the fog and arch its neck down to graze. The chilling temperature outside crept inside and left condensation over the window, against the heating on the inside the house. I used to think such a sight would be gloomy or even frightening, but I now saw comfort in it. Perfect setting for reading books, curling up by the fireplace, building a fort, lighting candles, being cloaked in a blanket all day, and making love. No need to go anywhere.

The whistle of the tea kettle stirred me from my observation place and I shut off the burner, carefully pouring the steaming water into a mug with the scent of lady grey tea wafting up to my nose. My hands were instantly warmed when I reached for it and drew it up towards my chest. I blew at the surface, sipping down just a little tea off the edge and set it down on the counter to cool off. If it wasn’t for Jonesy still being asleep, I would’ve put on a record to fill the silence.

I nearly jumped when a pair of arms snaked around my waist from behind me and I felt the tickle of Jonesy’s hair against my face while his lips pressed a warm kiss to my neck. He chuckled at my startled reaction and pulled me in tighter against him. I pivoted around in his arms to face him, placing my hands over his cheeks and teasing my puckered lips over the tip of his nose. He responded with a disappointed pout that was just too irresistible not to kiss.

“Good morning, my love.” I smiled.

“It’s a very good morning now.” He added.

My heart fluttered in my chest while I studied him. Smooth honey-brown hair that so perfectly cascaded down his shoulders. Eyes like deep blue-grey sapphires that always shone with good nature. Sharp, cornered cheekbones that cut through his otherwise youthful face. A tinge of peachy-pink freckles faintly splattered over the tops of his cheeks and nose. Soft pink lips that rested into a comfortable grin.

“How do you want to start the day? Back to the bed or down to the main living room with all the extra pillows and blankets?”

“Whatever you like, Y/N.” 

“Okay. I’ll set the floor and you can set up the fireplace.” I directed, heading down the hall with my steamy mug in hand and the comforting anticipation of the laidback events for the rest of our day.


	73. casual affair (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '71 jimmy page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw, cheating, kinda manipulation
> 
> sorry it's kinda long

request: "can I give you a request please? one shot— it’s 1970/71 & the reader has been in an relationship with Eric Clapton for a couple years (off and on the last few months) & she’s sort of been seeing Jimmy during the breaks. Eric is on tour/or leaves the country for a month ish & she stays with Jimmy till he comes home, & Jim begs her to leave Eric completely and just be with him. she’s struggling to pick between the them bc feels she has stability in her relationship with E & feels like going with Jim would be too much of a gamble, even tho she’s already fell in love with him— it causes friction between Jimmy and Eric bc they go way back! You can decide the outcome. If it could be in the framework of that. i tried to give you as much to go off so it would be as easy as possible and not to much work 🤍"

“Eric, I’ll really be fine. This isn’t necessary, and I don’t think Jimmy’s all that thrilled to have me invade his privacy for a month.” I tried reasoning with him as we walked up the pathway to the Pangbourne house.

“It’s alright, he actually offered so you’re not imposing at all. Besides, he owes me a favor and you said you didn’t want to be all alone for so long with the house so far off from the city in case something happened.” He pointed out.

“Fine. Just promise to shave that moustache when you get back.” I quipped, making the guitarist reach up to stroke his facial hair pitifully. 

I still wasn’t sure about all this but carried along one of my trunks and followed after Eric. He knocked at his friend’s door and flashed me a reassuring smile, which I hesitantly reciprocated. There really was no point for me to sit at home alone and most of my friends were out of town on a family holiday or whatever other reason, so I suppose it was lucky that Jimmy was kind enough to offer his home so openly. I think I met him about three or four times, and I got the impression that he was a fairly quiet, introverted type of person who really only opened up onstage.

The river ran alongside the house and its waters brushed along the rocky shores, reflecting the cloudless blue sky over our heads. It was peaceful and pretty, I was surprised I hadn’t been here before. There was a shuffling of feet behind the door and I turned my head from the distraction of the serene setting. Behind it stood a cheery Jimmy who invited the both of us inside with a wave of his hand. 

“Nice to see you both again.” He remarked softly.

Eric clapped him on the back in greeting, asking him a few questions to catch up with each other before he had to leave. I stood off bashfully to the side, not really knowing where I found myself in this dynamic. They bantered for a few minutes until Eric checked the watch on his wrist and bade us both a goodbye, as he’d have to join his bandmates on the plane soon. I received a chaste kiss and embrace and then he was out the door. 

It was strange to be standing here, on my own, still feeling like I was quasi-imposing on Jimmy’s hospitality as I was a mere acquaintance. He turned to me with the same friendly smile but a different look in his eyes. I shuffled around and picked up my things, having one of my cases taken up by him as he ushered me down the hall to the guest room I’d be inhabiting for the next month.

“I just had everything cleaned but I don’t usually have guests so don’t be shy to tell me if you need anything at all. I’ll be out in the living room.” He explained, leaving me alone in the room.

The walls were covered in a floral wallpaper with pink and yellow roses, which seemed to spring up in the furniture as well. Little laced white doilies were draped over the tops of tables and there were probably upwards of five decorative pillows over the cover blanket of the bed. It was cozy in a grandmotherly way but certainly not what I expected from my host who apparently wore leather jackets or paisley-swirled purple blouses or fringe vests all throughout tours while he shredded bow hairs over the strings of his guitar. 

I set to unpacking most of my things and rearranging them in the closet or dresser. There was some quiet strumming from through the door and down the hall to accompany my tidying endeavor, making it a lot less boring. Anything that was at risk of developing wrinkles was hung up into the closet and shoes were placed down along the floor of the closet. The rest of my things were either set on the dresser or set into the rightmost, upper drawer.

As my trunks were now emptied and I didn’t really want to disturb Jimmy, I explored my room a bit further. Out the linen-draped window was a view of the other houses further down the road and the river. It no longer looked blue but was streaked with the streaked warm tones of the sunsetting sky like so many paint splatters in a more colorful Jackson Pollock painting. Nearby was a completely vacant nightstand and then the neatly made bed. A few mismatched paintings, sculptures, and plants filled up empty spaces. I reached again towards the dresser to place my shawl into a new drawer, reaching for the bottom right drawer and instantly shutting it again when I noticed it was certainly not vacant. 

The contents were a bit… startling. Although I wasn’t even sure of exactly what I’d seen in that quick glance. But I preferred not to look again and block the thought out of mind. I really had to let the curiosity get the best of my and dig through people’s belongings, didn’t I? What Jimmy did with his spare time was none of my business and who was I to judge him for things he liked? Well, at least as long as the person in the cuffs and various other devices was fine with it. I elected to leave my shawl over the top of the dresser and stepped out of my new room, hearing that Jimmy had finished playing around on his guitar already. The instrument was placed off to the side of the burnt orange sofa and Jimmy stood up in greeting. He offered me tea and dinner, escorting me to the small table in the kitchen while he fully took up his role of the host. While we quietly ate dinner, we made casual conversation.

“Sorry you weren’t able to go with Eric, probably for the best though since some of those places along the road aren’t much fun to stay in. Especially in smaller towns where there aren’t too many places to spend the night.” Jimmy commented.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s weird, I miss him already and we’ve barely been apart for a day.”

“Well you do live together and he likes taking you along to various places, this is just a contrast. I can’t offer the same kind of company but it’s probably better than being completely alone, or at least I hope so.”

He spoke very eloquently, using the diction of a charming character from a classic novel. It made him seem friendly but ever distant and mysterious, like no one could truly know him all that deeply besides a very small group of people. Now I wasn’t even sure how close he was with Eric. 

“Tell me more about yourself, Y/N.” He prodded with an emphatic, gentle tone in the pronunciation of my name. “We might as well get to know one another if we’re to be housemates.”

I sighed, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you wish to tell.”

“Well, if gossip-ish topics interest you, Eric promised to bring me back a ring ‘tailored just for me’ from America once he comes back from the tour.” I confessed for the first time to anyone.

Jimmy was silent for a moment with an expressionless face before answering: “Congratulations in advance to the both of you. Once he returns, of course.”

“Thanks, speaking of which, do you really live here all alone and not… have other company visit you? A partner or anything?” I asked, hesitating slightly to invade his personal life and after seeing the one dresser drawer.

“No, I don’t.”

“Forgive me for asking then. What kind of songs were you working on just now? Are you doing studio work again?”

My question roused a grin across his lips, “I have a new project and I’ve been trying to come up with new arrangements of traditional blues songs. Maybe I’ll play some for you, if you promise to keep them a secret.”

He winked as he spoke his last sentence with a childish glimmer in his eyes. My idea of his nature seemed to by confirmed now. As soon as you think you’ve gotten a little closer to him, there’s a wall before you get to that part of him. He told me about his new project, but neither about the people in his new group nor exactly what they’d be performing or anything else. A shower of rain tapped at the windows as we finished our dinners, so we parted ways for the night.

The whole week followed the same dynamic as we warmed up to each other little by little. We took walks along the river sometimes, ate meals together, spent the rest of the days apart, and I never ventured to look into that drawer ever again. I cleaned up a little as a means to thank him for letting me stay with him, earning a funny look from Jimmy at how willing I seemed to act as a maid when he readily invited me here without expecting any means of repayment.

I had gone to bed, the eighth day with Eric gone having burned out about an hour ago as I sat in bed with the lamp on. Earlier, I had been reading one of my books intently but found myself distracted after a single chapter. My mind lingered off to imagine what life would be like once Eric came back. Maybe we really would get married soon and he’d be dedicated to the whole world of music with various amazing artists. That would probably be the fairytale version of things. 

Truthfully, our relationship was fairly fluid for the past few years or so and we’d drift apart then find ourselves back together again. I had seen him in Cream and with a few other groups after that, which alone was quite an interesting time in his life to experience even from the sidelines. We began as friends and saw each other pretty frequently wherever he’d be performing or otherwise spending his time, not too far later making us friends with benefits or something along those lines without a label. Only in the past six months did we really start “going steady” and I saw a stable future with him. The tangled web of thoughts down our past wore me out, so I shut the light off and forced myself to sleep.  
But I was too restless and thoughtful to go to sleep right then with only three things in mind that could help me tire out faster. The first was sleeping pills, which I assumed Jimmy had but I wasn’t about to go digging around his whole house to snip a few sleeping pills. The second was music, but I wasn’t about to disturb Jimmy by turning on a record to pass out on his living room sofa. The third… was a lot more doable and I’d just have to try staying quiet. A small part of my mind recalled the drawer only a few feet away from the bed, which I didn’t bother to rifle through but just thought about.

I began to think about Eric – him coming back and taking me home with him, then all I could think about was having to tidy up since the house would’ve been uninhabited after all this time. Plus, he’d be terribly sleepy from travel and likely jetlagged so his sleeping schedule would be all over the place. Dammit. But then I thought about surprising him on tour, being back in his hotel room together, and having missed each other for four weeks finally culminating up to our reunion. He’d still be so sweet and gentle, making things go slow just the way they always did. And yet, this thought didn’t work for me either.

Instead, I couldn’t get my mind off of experimenting with all those little things in that forsaken drawer I didn’t dare touch or acknowledge out loud. I wasn’t sure Eric would be into it but clearly Jimmy was. But it would be wrong to be thinking of him like this, right? He’d been friendly and sometimes made a playful flirt towards me, though I was sure he meant it all as banter. After all, he was Eric’s friend and I was likely to get engaged to the absent man next month. 

My mind was still conflicted because I still couldn’t sleep, in fact, now I was probably even more awake than before. Shit. Shit. Shit. Maybe just this once I could allow myself to think about someone else so I could go to sleep and then pretend it never happened. It’s not like anyone would know besides me. I took a breath, closed my eyes, reached my hands down, and found it far easier to slip into my mind this time. It was like the nagging thought of being disobedient to the implied faithfulness between myself and Eric had manifested itself into an instant guilty pleasure. 

A flood of ideas swirled through my mind, a new dark desire flashing into focus every few seconds. I could almost feel the cool metal or smooth leather of the different types of cuffs I’d seen. The harsh smack of a paddle or riding crop sounded fun, not something I would’ve imagined myself liking a mere week ago. I could see my wrists chained over my head so I couldn’t move them and the rest of my body squirming for some form of friction against my bare core. 

But then I pictured Jimmy coming into the room and that’s when I felt like I’d struck a perfect chord with what my body wanted. I knew from experience how skillful, for lack of a better word, guitarists were with their hands and given Jimmy’s renowned talents, I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d break the stereotype. That thought alone made me drip down my fingers and soak through the thin material of my panties, a hushed moan falling from my parted lips as the air seemed to thicken with heat. 

I dreamed up my long-haired host touching me like this while my hands were literally tied and making me beg him for it. My glimpses into Jimmy’s nature made me think he could be mean in that pleasurable way – bringing someone to the brink of madness and throwing them a lifeline, only to let go of it then watch their helpless victim crash into the waves of their own ecstasy. 

The idea alone was pulling me up to the peak of my climax as I vividly saw a now-familiar face of Jimmy’s: a quietly inscrutable hint of a smile and cunning emerald eyes shining with something unspoken lingering behind them. It always meant that there was some sort of strong thought in his mind that he wouldn’t dare to voice. Seeing it drove me crazy, and I could see him making that same face in my torturous fantasy. I finally worked myself up to a release, crying out quietly, and accidentally let his name slip from my mouth.  
My body froze in realization and I was mentally praying that I was just imagining this too. Granted, I probably chanted his name in quiet whispers under my breath mixed with curses while the scene played out in my head, but I hadn’t said it in such a tone nor nearly as loudly as I just had. Hopefully he already fell asleep and didn’t hear any of that, especially not his own name. All I could do now was pray to every deity in existence that that was the case. I relaxed after wiping off my fingers and felt a wave of sleepiness come over me, easily lulling me off to sleep in the dark, silent night.

The surprisingly clear dream I had that night didn’t help at all. I saw similar things as I’d envisioned earlier, but they got progressively kinkier and I was loving all of it. The problem was that it was with Jimmy, not Eric. The background sentiment of guilt only seemed to make me ache more for him, all of his touches through various means feeling so realistic that I was uncertain that this really was all a dream. I wished that I could just throw him out of my mind and pretend this never happened, but I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried to manipulate it. 

When I heard his voice calling my name, what felt like hours later, I nearly shouted furiously against all this madness and my worried guilt wracking through my mind. But it was a lot lighter outside now – it was morning. Jimmy stood over me, off to the side of the bed and was biting the inside of his cheek as though deep in thought. He quickly changed his expression to a lackluster smile when he saw me open my eyes. 

“Good morning Y/N, sorry to wake you but it’s almost noon and usually you’re up by now.” Jimmy apologized.

I shifted around, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders awkwardly with my guilt still plaguing me and making my whole face flush hot. 

“Thanks.”

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

My eyes widened and body tensed, maybe I was imagining that little smirk on his lips when he posed the question to me. I could feel my racing, electrified heartbeat pulsing erratically over my whole body. A sheen of sweat was starting to appear on my forehead. Shit, he knew… didn’t he? There was still a chance he was just being polite, maybe if I backtracked and answered neutrally he’d have to either accept it then only prod further if he really knew.

“Yeah, thanks. How’d you sleep?” 

“Not too bad, woke up a few times because I thought I heard a noise.”

“Did you?” I inquired, masking my panic.

“No, must’ve been something outside.” He shrugged as he walked to the doorway. “I’ll make some breakfast, or I guess lunch at this point, for you.” 

“Thank you, Jimmy.” I smiled.

Finally, I could breathe out a sigh of relief. Hopefully this was the last time I’d have to have such a confrontation and wouldn’t ever have those kinds of lewd thoughts about Jimmy again. Eric would be back in less than a month and everything would go back to normal, that was probably just a lapse in judgement. Things felt much clearer in the light of day and I went about my various little tasks as usual, happily agreeing to go for a walk with Jimmy in the evening. 

There were schoolchildren running through the sidewalks and between houses, enjoying the freedom of their sun-kissed days of freedom from schedules. I remembered playing the uncomplicated games of tag, hide and seek, jump rope, hopscotch, and all sorts of silly rhymes. Pity that we all had to grow up and leave those imaginative days behind for seriousness. I still thought back to my schooldays like they happened only a month or year ago, not understanding how so many years had passed since then and up to now. All these things I rambled about to Jimmy when he asked why I looked so pensive. He gave me a smile and agreed.

Jimmy continued the conversation, oddly more talkative than he’d ever been before. He told me about people he knew at school from all different ages – up to his relatively recent departure from the art college. There was a youthful glow in his face, a spirit of adventure stirring his narrative just the same at his life at age twenty as at age seven or thirteen. He seemed to have the “adult” sense of responsibility, aloofness, and whole persona tucked away for other occasions. Now he was just as carefree and joking as the children running through the fields along the street. 

His green eyes were a pretty shade of jade green now, an amber-gold light from the setting sun reflecting in them. The disheveled curl of his way-past-shoulder length hair reminded me of the texture of long tresses of grass in a field waving in a strong wind and it looked soft enough to comb my fingers through. A pale pink blush tinted the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He was tall, lanky, and fairly well-dressed for someone who spent the whole day sitting at home. Looking at him made you think he was a time traveler who had come straight out of the painting studios of the Victorian era, or directly popped right out of a beautiful portrait.

Our path brought us back to his home and I realized I was in trouble. It hadn’t been just a one-time lapse of judgement while I was missing Eric; the little flame of desire had been ignited once again and I couldn’t extinguish it with anything. I still wanted him just as badly, if not more, than before and I was very conflicted about it. Mentioning it was the last thing I wanted to do but what else could I do? Hope for it to go away when Eric returned? Privately think about Jimmy? None of these things would definitely and completely solve the problem.

When I was alone again in my room, I resisted any thought of Jimmy and kept my hands behind my back. If I couldn’t fall asleep, I would just have to deal with it and think of literally anything else. I remembered one of my old primary school classrooms. My eyes looked out to the faint glow of the moon through the curtains. I tried to recall the lyrics of an old favorite song of mine, reciting it mentally from beginning to end. That did the trick.

Only I found that I had no control of my mind when I was unconscious and that it would put me back on the same road as before, a very dangerous road to be wandering upon. My resistance to its visions started withering away – how could I push something away if it made me feel so good? Who gave a fuck anyways when no one knew about this aside from me? As long as I didn’t lose control of myself like this in the daytime, it would be fine to spend my nights being dragged through hell and lifted up to heaven by a man I most certainly wasn’t supposed to be thinking of in this way.

Though, the rest of the week continued along this trajectory and my resistance was wholly dissolving, day or night. I might’ve just been looking for confirmation of all this, but I could’ve sworn Jimmy was playing into this and trying to make it impossible for me. His hands lingered over me on walks or when he would give me hours-long guitar lessons. I picked up on cleverly hidden double-entendres in his speech every other sentence. It felt like being trapped in a whirlpool: being far enough out at the start to think you could escape, starting to fight back the dark swirling ocean only to find yourself unable to swim away into clear waters and helplessly being lost to the throes of the deep.

Out of curiosity and a loss of my impulse control, I did finally delve back into the dresser drawer for further investigation once I was sure that Jimmy was probably asleep. I didn’t dare to touch anything in there. All I did was look… and maybe think on a few of those things. To say the least, I couldn’t fall asleep at all and stayed up with my troubled mind until daylight streamed in through the thin curtains. 

What surely would’ve been in a dream bled into my daytime thoughts, leaving my patience to become almost nonexistent and my brain-to-mouth filter was like a fraying rope just barely holding me up from falling down into an abyss. I went to the kitchen to fix myself some coffee, thinking maybe it would give me enough energy not to embarrass myself, at the very least, and hopefully restore my sensibility. 

“Morning, Y/N.” He greeted in his terribly sweet voice, now laced with the gravelly tone of sleepiness.

“Morning.” I answered with my voice far meeker than intended.

“I don’t mean to offend you at all when I say this, but I think you should get some more sleep.” 

I groaned, knowing that I really couldn’t keep this on for very much longer. My nerves were shaking me so much I was scared it might’ve looked like I was trembling. I could honestly just snap at any second; if he so much as touched me, I’d lose it. Jimmy looked like a goddamn lost puppy as he stared back at me with an apologetic look, hoping that I didn’t misunderstand his intentions. Given my silence, he approached me and took my hands into his own with his eyes looking directly into mine. I felt too hypnotized to pull, or even look, away.

“You need to rest, love.” He coaxed emphatically.

A breath froze in my lungs, I couldn’t reply to him and my heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

“C’mon, put the coffee down and let’s get you back to bed.” 

One of his arms cloaked over my shoulders and directed me back through the hall, an easy smile on his lips while I helplessly gazed at him. Gracefully beautiful as a guardian angel with his beautiful dark, shiny waves and perfect features. It didn’t help that he was so kind and vastly knowledgeable on so many different things. He’d always get this excited glow when we hit on such a subject and I couldn’t help but hang on to every single one of his words. 

Jimmy guided me to sit down at the side of my unmade bed and he brushed a hand along the side of my face, concern evident in his expression.

“Are you alright, darling? And be honest with me.”

I sighed. Goddamn it, what was I supposed to say to him? The truth?! 

“Um, well I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“What was on your mind?”

“Nothing.” I answered all too quickly.

“Bullshit.” He grinned widely.

My face felt like it was burning.

“What was it? Tell me.” He beseeched childishly. “Just not if it’s something nasty about Eric.” 

“Oh, then I really shouldn’t tell you.” I played along, thinking that I’d get out of this easy if I did.

A silence passed between us and the ball was in his court. I thought that maybe he was just giving a moment to change the subject, but a different look passed over his face. It was just as mischievous, but sly too… like he knew something I didn’t and was going to silently rub it in. I thought he was going to make a snide remark about me and Eric, but he just stood before me with his mouth upturned.

“What?” I prodded with my eyes narrowed.

“I know it’s not something about Eric.” 

His brows quirked up when he looked down at me, the shit-eating smirk just growing wider by the minute. I froze.

He crooned: “Aww, you really didn’t think the wall was that thick, did you? Thought I couldn’t hear you crying out my name every night, all week long? What should I tell Eric? He did call me yesterday, but don’t worry about it.”

“I- I’m sorry Jimmy, I don’t know what came over me.”

“And I don’t mind.” 

“Jimmy, no, this isn’t right… and I love Eric and I don’t want to cheat on him. This was just a mistake.”

“A mistake that happened every night. And you sounded so sweet, genuine even.”

“But Jimmy- ”

“Ooh, you’re getting there. Try it again.” He taunted.

I sighed and my head fell into the palm of my hand, “This is wrong.”

“C’mon, Y/N, it can’t be all that wrong. If you want to get married to him, you probably shouldn’t be thinking about fucking his friend. That’s a gateway into an affair, you know. Besides, do you really believe Eric isn’t going to be unfaithful to you while he’s gone?”

“You’re an asshole who shouldn’t be using this against me for your own benefit.” I rebutted, removing his hand from my shoulder.

He came even closer to me, leaning over my seated frame until I fell back down over the bed with him kneeling over me. My wrists were bound into place by his strong hands – I didn’t even bother fighting back. Jimmy was smiling down at me knowing exactly what he was doing. Heat waved down my abdomen into my core and I was mentally chiding myself for it, how could I seriously be turned on by this right now? 

“I feel sorry for you Y/N: can’t help it and you’re trying so hard to resist when you know in the back of your mind that it’s pointless.”

“And you’re being completely manipulative.” I spat, my chest heaving in this weird mix of anger and arousal.

“Oh please, you’re enjoying it. Shall I check to make sure, or would you rather just tell me?” He offered, leaning his head down so his eyes and lips were level with mine.

“Fine, you’re right.” I glared.

“Isn’t it so much easier when you tell the truth, my dear?” Jimmy jeered, teasing a kiss to the tip of my nose.

“No because this isn’t right.”

“I’m not telling. Neither on him nor you.” He grinned. “Now be a good girl and tell me what you fantasized about. Maybe I can turn it into reality.”

I chose to ignore his comment about Eric for the moment and sighed, knowing I really didn’t want to fight this off. Just once. It would be nothing but a fling. I’d let myself slip up this time, enjoy it fully, and never let it happen again. Maybe this would also make the stupid dreams go away and work to my advantage, so I perked up underneath him while telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. The lack of filter actually helped.

“Well Jimmy, I discovered your little treasure trove in this room and it gave me a few ideas. I’ll tell you – Eric isn’t nearly that adventurous. Just tell me, how much more detail do you want?”

He shifted over me and cleared his throat, “You’re wandering into a dangerous territory. I have to know you’re sure about this if you keep talking like that.”

“Touch me. Handcuff me. Tie me up. Play with me however you want. Is that enough confirmation?”

Jimmy remained firm and silent, eyes lingering over my frame that was lying beneath him as though thinking about everything he could do in that moment. I was just anticipating his next move, either going to his drawer or getting the both of us undressed. My already worn-out patience was completely gone now as I reached my hands up to his shoulders and trailed them down to his hips. He shifted against my touch and his lips parted blissfully, somehow looking even more angelic than before. Just as I rolled my hips up to give the both of us just a slight sense of friction, Jimmy moved away. 

All he said in explanation was: “Not now.” 

“Then when?” I sat up, exasperated.

“After your nap; you’re going to need it.” He smiled, closing the door behind him.

I was so close to either dragging him back in here or to slap him for pulling that shit. My head was buzzing from a combination of exhaustion, restlessness, frustration, and anger as I flopped back down onto the disheveled sheets. Part of me wanted to leave now and avoid all of this happening again, but a stronger part was more than willing to wait for him to come around again. I didn’t want to think about it, I was too tired, so I followed his order and let myself fall asleep to escape the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing me. 

Luckily, I was found reprieve in sleep and was finally granted a dreamless slumber. There was peace in the emptiness of my mind, not seeing neither Eric nor Jimmy nor anyone else, just resting. But it didn’t last long. I woke in a state of disarray and confusion – uncertain of the time of day, nor what to do about Jimmy, nor what to do about Eric, nor where my sense of balance had gone. My feet stumbled down the hall and back to the kitchen, only thinking about solving the issue of my hunger.

The house seemed refreshingly empty, giving me solace as my thoughts slowly dawned on my waking mind again and I reasoned through them. Outside, the sun’s rays were shining golden as it set over the horizon and only then did I realize how long I’d been sleeping for. I ate and drank in silence with my mind far away from me, blocking out my senses in the present. So well that I didn’t notice the sound of footsteps nor the sound of a soft voice greeting me, at least not until a touch grazed along my shoulders.  
“I was going to ask if you felt better, Y/N, but you still seem a little out of it.” He chuckled, sitting down beside me.

“No, I’m alright. Just lost in thought.” 

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked coolly.

I pursed my lips and told him the truth before I even admitted it to myself: “No.”

“Are you sure that you’ll still feel that way in the morning? When you remember Eric?”

“I haven’t forgotten him at all.” I countered. “And I’m not sure what your intentions are now because you keep backtracking.”

“Just want to make sure, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop once we get started.” 

“I’m completely sure, Jimmy.” I turned to look him directly in the eyes. 

I’d lain myself at his feet and was prepared to go through this literal affair, accepting all the consequences that came along with it. His silence now spoke to me – I could read his expression and see his reply rather than waiting for him to give me a verbal answer. There was a genuine light to his concern, and not just for himself, mixed with the more self-interested, desirous shade across his face. To prove myself, I took his hand and pulled him along out of the kitchen. 

The evening light seemed to darken with each moment, a dim burnt orange glow lining just the edges of our silhouettes. Jimmy took the lead now and showed me into his room, releasing my hand so he could watch me willingly put myself into his bed. I lied down and messed up the made bed, slowly starting to pull my top up over my head with my attention focused solely on him. Jimmy stepped towards me steadily with any semblance of restraint or sweetness absent from his expression, reaching to replace my own hands to undress me. 

“Tell me if you don’t like something, I won’t use anything to stifle any noise you’ll make so you can speak up. Anything you don’t want me to do?”

“Jimmy, just get on with it.” I pleaded, my hands restlessly fumbling under the hem of his shirt and the strained zipper of his pants. 

“What do we say?” He prodded coldly, smacking my hands away.

I mustered up my softest tone, “Please, Jimmy.”

“Good girl. Now keep your arms over your head and legs apart, I’ll be right back.” 

I cooperated easily and waited, feeling the cool air against my bare skin with the golden rays of remaining sunlight filtering in through the thin curtain onto me. There was nothing running through my mind except the present, nothing distracting me from this. My eyes followed Jimmy’s frame as he came back to me a few moments later. If Jimmy was at all pleased with me, he didn’t let it on and merely stood at my side with his hands behind his back. 

“These are the most comfortable of restraints and I’m being very generous with you, Y/N.” He explained, setting a few things down on the floor where I couldn’t see them and fixing a rope around my wrists. 

“Thank you, Jimmy.” 

He quirked his brow but didn’t smile, “You’re catching on quickly.”

Once my wrists tied together, fairly loose but I couldn’t really move them apart, Jimmy kneeled over me with his knees on either side of my hips. I looked up to him, enthralled in the sight and wondering how he could be like this yet look so angelic. His long, dark hair tickled my skin while his soft lips found their place on my lips, gentle and slow as kisses were in glamorous movies.

But he didn’t remain so gentlemanly, journeying down along the side of my neck until he reached my sternum and rutted against me. I involuntarily pulled against the rope, wanting to touch him or respond to his hellishly perfect touches. However, all I could manage was to try grinding back up into him and had his hands roughly push me back down, only letting me take whatever friction he’d give me with his biting kisses over my chest. 

He leaned back, letting his mouth skip over the rest of my torso to reach his final destination and his hands guide my thighs further apart to ease his means of access. I felt like I was trembling in anticipation, watching his head dip lower and closer until I could feel his warm breath against me. His sly green eyes flickered back up to meet my desperate ones, drinking in every moment of it as his lips parted and gave way to his tongue.

Jimmy lapped at me once, curling the tip of his tongue teasingly before doing it again just as slowly and making my whole body flush with heat. My toes curled and I nearly cried out when his fingers probed gently into me – like he was searching for something while he lapped and sucked with his mouth. I felt the tips of his fingers prod just slightly off where they’d been before and noticeably tensed with wide eyes.

Now Jimmy pulled back and smiled to remark: “Sensitive.”

“What did you do?”

“It’s a trick.” He teased, changing his position around to slip his pants off his legs. “You want me to untie you now?”

My bound wrists were carefully lifted and placed over my chest, easing the tension in them. When I followed down the prominent lines V-ing along his hips, I realized what Jimmy thought I might’ve wanted my hands loose for. In the back of my mind I wanted to make a comparison to Eric but quickly pushed out any thought of him for now. I was honestly enjoying the restraints and felt up for a challenge.

A hint of a grin curled my lips, “No. Fuck my mouth just like this.” 

His hand reached for the back of my head, uncompromising to my half-reclining frame over the pillows while I held my mouth wide open for him. Just like when I’d seen him perform, he leaned back with just his hips thrusting forward, shoving his length into my mouth and holding my head to take it per his own desire. The light through the window had dimmed almost completely as I nearly gagged, quickly adjusting along to his rhythm of rolling in and out from between my lips. I hummed against his cock when I heard rough, hushed groans from the usually honey-voiced Jimmy.

“Mm, shit…” He professed under his breath, biting down on his lower lip when he pulled back with a sudden urgency.

A sticky strand of saliva connected from along the glistening skin of his shaft, that’d just been in my mouth, to my lips and dripped down my chin. It was far filthier than anything I’d ever done before and all I did was fight back a smile, feeling another ripple of arousal through the very lowest part of my abdomen. I glanced up for approval, only to see a very flushed and smug-looking Jimmy. His calloused fingertips traced along the lines of my body, teasing me when he drifted lower but never quite reached low enough.

“Stay still for a moment, I want to remember how you look now.” He commanded.

“Spit all over my mouth?”

“No, before. Later you’ll look like the picture of defilement.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t squirm when he said that. Jimmy leaned down again, his hand along my jaw as he coaxed me back up into a seated position. He coarsely rejoined our lips and moved against them frenziedly as a starved man, his hips over my lap from our proximity. I tried keeping up with his frantic pace, feeling his slick tongue slip between my lips and his hands roam over my body like he was trying to memorize exactly how I felt in his grasp. His one hand went back up to my cheek while the other rubbed circles lower and lower towards my clit, making me try to gain more friction from his skillful fingers. 

Jimmy disconnected our lips curtly, a different and far less patient energy coursing through his veins now. His one hand grabbed at my thigh and lifted it, fingers digging into my flesh, while the other teased me incessantly with the same technique he used to play those scream-like high notes on his guitar. I was starting to get close to an orgasm and his name was hanging on my lips with the company of a few curses, until his hand drew back with a light smack of finality over my wet folds. If it wasn’t for him holding my legs, they would’ve trembled and tensed together.

“I think you’re more than ready, darling. Look how pretty and soaked you are.” He remarked with a cocky grin.

My leg muscles eased up a little, but now my abdomen was tense as I felt the tip of his cock prod at me and slowly slip into me. Despite this initial gentleness, he drove on harder until I was completely full of him. His grazing hands were like flickering flames lightly burning the skin on the sides of my torso. Whatever usual softness left in his tone had dissolved, giving way to the raspy, harsh sound scratching in his throat and between his parted lips. I hissed between my teeth when he angled himself back up into that spot his fingers had found earlier, my legs going weak as electric pulses flowed through them rather than blood. 

When a hand wrapped around my throat and his fingers gently coiled around tighter, my eyes fell wide and stared right up at him. He didn’t slow down for a moment, forcing me to mewl and cry out his name desperately between gasping breaths. It seemed to embolden him more than any praise could, hearing for himself just how good he was.

“I bet Eric doesn’t fuck you like this.” He taunted.

Tears pricked in my eyes as his hand squeezed just a little tighter and I clawed at it with my bound hands, trying to fight Jimmy off for that comment. I knew it was exactly the reaction he wanted from me, thinking that I’d try challenging him, and I was more than willing to give him that victory. Though the comment didn’t piss me off because he was reminding me of being unfaithful, that ship sailed a week ago. I was mad because I only wanted to think about Jimmy now, the guilt stimulating me up to a high faster. It was like he knew what I’d react to better than I did myself. 

But before I could fire back a rebuttal, his free hand lingered down to part my pussy lips with his thumb and middle finger while his forefinger stroked into my clit. The combinations of new sensations drove me higher, approaching the edge of the cliff with every second. My body couldn’t stay still beneath him as the telltale tension clenched within me, and around him. Jimmy slowed his hips while I started to beg for more, pleading for release, and his hands merely slipped down along my heated skin. His voice buzzed lowly in the base of his throat when he gradually pulled back out of me. The bastard left me high and dry with a sly, knowing grin. 

“Don’t fret, love, I have another idea.” He shushed me with his breathless, gruff voice. 

My wrists were untied soon thereafter, and I rubbed the irritated skin to soothe the blistered pain away. But Jimmy didn’t want to let me off to easy, grabbing me by the arm to straddle his hips as we traded places. His other hand now held a riding crop that he’d left on the floor before and he looked pointedly at me. A liquid fire pooled down in my stomach as I cautiously positioned myself over him, my hand running along his length a few times before guiding it into me and I sank down slowly to let myself adjust. 

“C’mon, baby, ride me or I’ll have to make you do it.” Jimmy threatened, running the smooth leather end of the disciplinary toy up my thigh.

I tried to obey him, rolling along as much as I could and purposely aiming for him to graze along that one spot within me. The moment I’d found it, my back arched and my cries of his name grew even louder. His free hand groped at my ass as a means to push me along, fingers almost painfully digging into the skin. But when I slowed down far too much, feeling a climax approaching and not sure if I could completely ride it all the way out, he smacked me with the riding crop. But that only brought me to the very precipice before losing myself down into the depths of my own pleasure.

“You dreamt about this all week long and you’re giving up now, Y/N? Pity… maybe it’s too much for you.” Jimmy chided.

Out of spite, and completely in line with his manipulative skills, I sped up again. Almost immediately I was hit with a tidal wave of that blissful ecstasy of release, going harder and faster to ride out the high for as long as I could. My voice was echoing throughout the whole house, my nails were tearing at the skin of his shoulders, my self-restraint was gone, and I didn’t give a fuck. Hell, I was going to keep going until Jimmy came but he shoved me off by the hips and made me lie back. 

I think I nearly orgasmed again when I heard him in that same realm of madness and desperation, crying out my name in the dirtiest tone with threats, curses, and meaningless moans between it. My eyes watched him intently, despite how drained I was starting to feel, and his pretty face was contorted into an expression of pure desire to be granted a release. His hand moved faster than I’d ever seen it before as he tossed his head back, groaning up into the air. I opened my mouth with my tongue sticking out as encouragement, hearing a very positive response from Jimmy. He splattered my mouth, chest, and stomach with cum.

Jimmy then took on the appearance of a falling angel, crashing down at my side breathless, flushed pink, and a shade of exhaustion over his now-moonlit face. Though, a mere moment was all he required to collect himself enough to turn around and kiss me with as much fervor as he did amidst our tryst. He turned to grab a small towel to clean me off with, his eyes looking over me as studiously as they had before.

“Well, is this enough ‘defilement’ for you?” I quipped, already feeling how messed up my hair had become. 

He smiled, “I think we can do much better. Unless this was truly a one-and-done affair, which I doubt. You don’t look like the guilt is bothering you at all.”

“Because it isn’t. I don’t know why, I should probably feel guilty about it but I really don’t.”

“You may change your mind in the morning.” He pointed out with a frown.

I paused and looked down to the sheets as I beseeched: “Can I stay with you?”

“You’ve been staying with me for over a week, love, I think we’ve passed that.” He chuckled.

“I meant in your room.”

“Whatever you like. I’m more than happy with you sleeping beside me as long as you want.” 

I gave him a look, “Jimmy- ”

He quoted to me in a sing-song voice: “’…I don’t care about your husband too, I just wanna make love to you.’”

“Didn’t know you sang.” I turned over the subject.

“I don’t. Just making a point. There’s nothing actually binding you to Eric if you wanted to leave him.”

“For you?”

“Well I’d assume so, unless there’s another skeleton in your closet of affairs.”

I glared at him, “No there isn’t. Just come here and let me think about this later.”

He lied back down beside me, his touch still restlessly drawing soothing lines along my frame and it lulled me to sleep. His lips delicately touched over my heavy eyelids and onto my cheek. My mind was oddly at peace and far too exhausted from physical exertion to be able to think back on what just happened. But it was even better than any of my dreams had been.


	74. phantom of the opera au (led zeppelin x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: all of led zeppelin but mostly jimmy x fem!reader  
> Warnings: hinted nsfw & a bit manipulative
> 
> happy halloween! thought i'd celebrate a little through writing an abridged au from a "horror musical" and used a little bit of each adaptation of the story which is set in ~1870-1890. and no i most certainly did not waste my midterm exam time writing this nor spend 15 minutes looking at the meanings of various fruits/flowers for needless depth...
> 
> in case you don't catch it in the story:  
> -"i" is reader (christine daae)  
> -jimmy is the tutor/angel of music/phantom  
> -robert is the vicomte (raoul de changy)  
> -jonesy & bonzo are the friends (meg giry but musicians & 2 of them!)  
> -grant & cole are the managers (firmin & andre or whatever version you prefer)

I remember the moment of our first interaction in perfect clarity – I was quietly walking through the empty halls of the dormitory building and snuck into the lead’s glamorous dressing room, solely out of curiosity since I’d never been allowed inside of it before. An aria hummed quietly at my lips as I imagined myself being the primadonna whose dressing room this was. My feet tip-toed over the floor in my silent satin ballet slippers as I observed the vanity, the bouquets of flowers, the cosmetics, the gilded décor, the elaborate full-body mirror. Just as I was about to leave, a voice called to me. 

“Where are you going, little one?”

It was a masculine voice, but with such a soft tone that it didn’t strike fear in my heart. I turned back around, trying to seek out the owner of the voice to find no one in the room save for myself. He inquired again and I thought he must’ve been a spirit of some kind, maybe the age-old story of an Angel of Music that my guardians had promised to send me   
when they left me to train in the theatre. 

“Back to my room, I shouldn’t have come in here.” I confessed thinking that verité would win me his favor.

He chuckled melodiously, “I won’t tell a soul, Y/N.”

I was startled that he somehow knew my name and quickly inquired: “Who are you?”

“Someone who has watched over you for a long time and noticed your potential, not in the ballet but in music.” 

“So you are the Angel of Music!” I exclaimed happily. 

“I wish to help you, should you accept my tutelage, and all I require is for you to come to this very room every night at nine o’clock.” 

My naïve mind thought that rejecting such an offer from an angel would be a form of massive cosmic disrespect, so of course I promised my nights to the man that spoke to me in the dressing room that night. The instance occurred three years ago, back when I was just shy of sixteen. But I studiously went into my music lessons every night after all sorts of exhausting rehearsals or performances. 

He was strict, very focused on making sure I could get every detail right, and never revealed himself to me even after so much time had passed. Any music scores I had to study off of were always neatly placed for me on the cushioned seat of the vanity. I was taught to turn my voice into an instrument, singing emphatically with as close to perfect technique as possible, despite my tutor never actually singing to me himself. He taught me all the musical languages so I understood precisely what the character was saying. His speaking voice was hypnotic, even when he chided me in a dark tone or kindly praised my improvement.

The angel also gave me criticism sometimes about what I’d done earlier in the day – engaging a very friendly conversation with a new, young violinist or lollygagging through rehearsals with my friends – so I knew he was truly watching over me at all times. He grew far more critical as I grew older, giving me less praise and more remarks on how to perfect my singing. It felt like my vocal chords were being molded by his invisible hands, and I’d go to bed very late with my energy completely drained. 

When I finally told my two closest friends in the theatre’s pit orchestra, neither of them believed my tale. Funnily, they were both named John: the percussionist was simply called by his name while the other, who played several different instruments for whatever the score required, was called by his surname – Jones. John merely chuckled at my folly and said I was likely overtired from how strict the ballet mistress was being to us. Jones concurred, advising me to go to bed sooner and perhaps take a rest until my health was restored. I never breathed another word of my tutor to them. 

Through those three years, much changed at the theatre. New managers took over, the legendary Opera Ghost wrought havoc on occasion, we were sponsored by a Vicomte, and more complaints arose about the aged primadonna that refused to leave her post. All of these events came to a culmination on one day amidst rehearsals for a new performance of Chalumeau’s Hannibal. This brought the whole cast to a grinding halt. 

One of the managers, Messier Grant, was burly and frightening while the other, Messier Cole, was evidently a troublemaker based on how his eyes remained glued to us ballerinas. This, of course, angered the primadonna who was singing her lungs out for their attention as she shrieked improvised flares to her soprano line. The whole cast cringed at the shrill pitch of her singing and the Opera Ghost clearly sided with us, as a heavy roll of scenery crashed down from above. 

All of my fellow ballerinas screamed, gathering our tulle skirts into our torsos and whispering wildly about the terrifying ghost haunting our theater. The new managers didn’t seem to believe in our superstitions and blew it off as improperly secured scenery. However, the primadonna more than believed in it as she stormed off angrily, shouting about how she refused to work in such conditions and ordering around all the staff to gather her things. No one actually thought she would leave since she was so given to tantrums and verbally abusing members of the cast, only to return within a few hours after the promise of lead roles or gifts from the managers.

The Vicomte was lucky to not witness this affair, arriving at the theater to greet us all happily only to find us in a very jumpy state. He was dressed suitably for his title: shining jewelry glittering upon his skin, a soft poet’s blouse on his strong chest, sleek brown riding boots up to his knees, and bronze-toned trousers that appeared to be a bit too tight just below his hips. His handsome visage and long, waved tresses of golden hair caused the whole corps to erupt in more complimentary whispers, some things I heard downright unseemly. 

“Ah the Vicomte de Changy has joined us.” I heard Jones quietly announce from the theatre pit.

“Good afternoon. It’s wonderful to meet you all, I look forward to make your acquaintances and observe the skillful performances I know the managers will put on.” He spoke eloquently, a boyish smile on his face.

Several of us broke into fits of bashful giggles or posed maturely before him, all of our eyes observing him as he continued a welcoming speech then waved a goodbye to us. We were told he’d be at the performance of the opera tonight, sending a jolt of panic through everyone when we realized that there was no leading soprano to sing the role of Elissa. Messier Grant looked between every member of the cast to consult what in the world he was meant to do. The show was sold out and there was no way he’d consider refunding a full house. Messier Cole weakly tried to calm the unnerved man. 

“There must be an uh… an understudy! An understudy for the role!” Messier Grant boomed.

“No, we never have an understudy. Our primadonna never storms out quite like this.” Jones informed.

“How the hell are we gonna do this? Is she going to come back?!”

John piped up, “Why not let Y/N do it?” 

“I’m sorry?” I gasped, wondering why in the world he would offer my name.

Jones continued: “She’s been trained vocally for the past three years.” 

I shot him a look, wondering how in the world the both of them knew that if they hadn’t believed me when I initially told them about it and why they’d volunteer me for this role.   
My voice wasn’t that good and even if I knew the part, I would surely fluctuate off the set tempo with my nerves. It was only made worse with everyone staring at me as if I had horns growing out of my hair. 

Grant turned to Cole, “Should we really give a chance to a chorus girl?”

Cole’s gaze flickered to me and he gave an eerie smile, “She’s our only option… and she is very pretty.”

The conductor of the pit started from the beginning of the aria we’d been rehearsing endlessly and suddenly the music seemed to be going far too quickly. Everyone was frozen in place and stared at me with conflicted expressions written all over their faces. The introduction was coming to an end and my heart hammered through my whole diaphragm. Come on, come on, gather yourself Y/N. 

I opened my mouth to sing, my voice trembling with my unsteady breaths and I knew that if my angel were watching me then he’d harshly scold me for wasting this opportunity. My two friends gave me smiles of encouragement, but I could hear the others’ remarks too. Their scathing words only fueled me to regain my composure quickly, my singing suddenly smoother and more confident as I sang through the end of the first verse. 

My voice raised up through my body, as if it were floating above me and raising my soul all the way up to the ceiling while I glided from note to note. The musicality wasn’t perfect, but my newfound confidence made me proud enough of my performance. I was nearing the end of the piece, taking a deep breath before singing the improvised soprano line with descending broken thirds then jumping two octaves for the grand finale. A wave of relief washed over my frame when I realize I made it all the way through the piece without faltering. 

“You’ve got the role, my dear.” Grant said aghast, shaking his head in disbelief with widened eyes. 

Most of the cast came up to congratulate me and I was whisked off to the very dressing room I’d wandered into one fateful night three years before. The tulle of the ballet corps’ dress was shrugged off my shoulders and I was immediately measured so the seamstresses could adjust the Elissa costumes onto my frame. My dear musician friends visited me in the evening once I was fully dressed and dolled up with crystal flowers embedded in my long-haired wig. They smiled at me like two very pleased brothers and presented me with fragrant bouquets of carnations.

“We wish you luck tonight, though your impromptu audition this afternoon makes me think you won’t need it at all.” Jones complimented, kissing the back of my hand.

“I knew she’d be a special one, she’s not as nasty and competitive as those little ballet rats.” John snorted to himself.

“How did you two know? I thought you didn’t believe in the Angel?” I challenged.

Jones smiled hesitantly, “We heard you sometimes when you’d hum or sing under your breath… and we know you’ve always wished for more than a chorus role.”

The musicians were all called into the pit and the ballerinas were called to the wings, making me realize only now that I wasn’t going to join them now. In the elaborate silver-white gown and fine jewelry, the reflection staring at me in the mirror looked like a member of royalty. I didn’t recognize myself at all. My pulse quickened when I thought I saw another pair of eyes staring at me through the full-body mirror, but I blinked and they were gone. I must’ve just been over-excited and turned my attention away, mentally wishing for the Angel of Music to grant me his glorious powers this evening when I’d take the stage.

Within the following ten minutes I was called on deck as well, taking on the heroine’s role with a full audience watching me perform. There were white horses, a spotlight on me, beautiful scenery with a full moon, glittering costumes of the chorus, and the reassuring smiles of my two dear friends in the pit further below the stage. I smiled and my voice didn’t waver now, the pleasure of the music rushing through my whole body as I let myself get lost in it. It was like being possessed by the spirit of something greater than myself and soaring through the painted ceiling up to the starlit sky. Only the wild applause of the audience weighed my soul back down to the ground. 

The rest of the show went on without a hitch and I hid myself away in my new, rose-besotted dressing room after taking my bows. There were so many fresh flowers that it almost made my nose itch and I could hear people crowding the backstage halls to congratulate the managers with their successful discovery of my apparent “talents”. A knock came at the door, making me turn in my cushioned seat and preparing a whole speech to ward off any visitors I didn’t feel like entertaining.

But the door gracefully opened and promptly shut to reveal the elegantly dressed Vicomte: “My congratulations to you, Y/N. I was only now informed that this was your singing debut.”

“Thank you, sir.” I replied curtly, taking the bouquet of white gardenias and pale purple roses from his outstretched hand.

“No need for the formalities, my real name’s not ‘Vicomte’ or ‘sir’ but Robert.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance… Robert.” 

His lips smiled wider, “Would you care to go to dinner with me tonight?”

A hesitation gripped me. The last few times I’d spoken to anyone besides my fraternal friends, my tutor scolded me until I decided against getting too involved with any others. But there was a soft hope shining in his pretty blue eyes and I really did want to accept his offer. He cleared his throat as he shifted his weight onto one side with his hands on his hips, signaling for me to give him an answer.

“Perhaps not to-night from all this excitement. Would you have any prior engagements to-morrow evening?” I offered instead, assuming I could warn my strict tutor and still make it back early enough for my lessons with him.

“I do not, I shall see you then my pretty songbird.” He winked, lightly bowing and leaving the same way he came in.

My stomach was erupting with the dainty wings of glass butterflies as the charming nobleman left me. I stood up to lock the door of the dressing room, not wanting to see anyone else for the evening and choosing to wait for the crowd to clear away. The sparkling jewelry and elegant dress I wore were carefully taken off behind the changing screen as I donned a frilled dressing gown over the top of my underclothes.

Out of nowhere, a strange draft blew through the otherwise still air and every single one of the candles illuminating my room was extinguished. The dressing room was left almost completely dark, save for the moonlight. My skin was covered in goosebumps and my stomach flipped at the eeriness of the scene.

A familiar voice boomed throughout the room in a mocking sing-song tone: “Insolent boy, basking in your glory. Ignorant fool – this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!” 

I replied in song as he’d taught me, relief flooding me as I understood this was all just my tutor’s dramatic flare: “Angel, I hear you – speak, I listen – stay by my side, guide me. Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master.”

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside.” He spoke, as always, in riddles.

“Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of Music hide no longer, come to me strange angel.” I beckoned him, hoping that he’d truly appear to me after all of these years.

A light shone through the full-body mirror pinned to the wall, a man’s silhouette black in the center of it. My better sense would’ve propelled me to run through the crowds of people and far away from whatever hellish being was appearing to me. Yet insatiable curiosity and the buzzing energy of the night’s success was emboldening me onward, even as the reflective surface of the mirror slid to the side. A caped man really was standing there with his pale hand outstretched to me, a Labyrinthine hallway twisting and turning behind him.

“Come with me, Y/N.” 

I took his hand. He waved his hands before me and commanded me to sing, conducting my voice into the last aria he’d taught me to sing as though he could manipulate my vocal chords with the swipe of his hand through the air. Every vein in my body was electrified at this discovery. As he stepped further back and guided me by an unoccupied hand, I followed his steps. My gaze lingered along the curves of his face, the stark white mask over half of his face, the gleam of his dark hair, and his jade green eyes. This was no angel, but he didn’t seem like any ordinary man I’d ever seen in my life before either. 

Blindly, my feet followed him through this underground system of tunnels and I only cast a look over my shoulder once. Our strange duet – his strong direction guiding my voice – was a unification, a connection between his power over me and my voice that echoed off the stony walls of this hidden-away realm beyond the theatre. Through the snaking halls, there was finally a light glowing at the end of it all and I finished the aria in a decrescendo just in time.

Tall sculpted iron candelabras arose at the edges of this clearing out into the fog-cloaked water in the distance. Flowers perfumed the air and dotted the surface of the water. Reams of yellowed, blank sheet music were stacked over a writing desk with a pot of ink and quill beside them. Various instruments posed as furniture that took up the remaining space. Off to the side was a velvet-curtained chamber that I assumed was his bedroom. There was another hall leading off the opposite side of the clearing. Sketches in scratchy black ink were tacked onto the walls, many of them with some figure that somewhat resembled me. It was beautiful, yet startling.

My tutor’s fingers lingered over my hand as he released it, coaxing me to follow him further inside. He recited poetic lines in a lyrical, glided voice about the sensations of the soothing, quiet nighttime and his touch grazed over my thinly-clothed arms. The words persuaded me to let go of my old life, release my spirit to ascend over my physical form as it had on stage, open my mind to the fantasies that had possessed me, and how this power of the night’s darkness was unconquerable. 

He removed his black cloak with a swooping swirl, planting in over the arm of the sofa. As the lines of his recitation grew more intrusively charming, he pulled me flush against him and brushed his hands over my face delicately. I grew weaker in his arms, perhaps from the affairs of the evening finally catching up to me. So much so that when he drew my face up to his own and our lips just barely collided, I felt myself slip away from consciousness. My body limply fell into his strong arms, which deftly carried me off to the plush, neatly made bed.

The last thing I heard him say was a faint, despairing aspiration: “You alone can make my song take flight…”

I was uncertain of the hour of my waking when it came to me. The sound of swiftly finger-picked notes on the strings of a Spanish guitar greeted my senses and, even through my blurred vision, I followed the sound with my bare feet stepping over a smoothed stony surface. As the sleepiness wore off and my eyes adjusted to the dimly glowing candlelight, I noticed that it was mysterious tutor working madly at a composition. An involuntary smile graced my lips and I neared him until I was kneeling at his feet.

“May I see your music?” I requested.

“No.” He replied gruffly but softened instantly. “I have something for you.”

His strumming hand reached aside for a red rose with a black ribbon tied around its no-longer-thorny stem and handed it to me. I drew the flower up to my nose, the rich scent swirling through my nose and dizzying my mind as I recounted to him the events of the night. The memories were dreamlike and fantastical, but my frenzied curiosity wasn’t satiated with his simple nodded confirmation when I asked about it all. 

My hand reached for the edge of the mask over his face, he gripped my wrist like a vice. A red anger flashed in his eyes as he gritted through his teeth to warn me against ever doing that again. He seemed less of an angel by the minute, yet still not an ordinary man. There was a power that emitted from his every move and I feared it too much to try fighting. Or maybe I wanted to maintain a semblance of disciplined respect for the man who offered me gratuitous tutelage for three years. 

Instead, I changed the subject: “What shall I call you? Now that I’ve realized you aren’t truly an angel.”

“Anything you wish.”

“Certainly you have a name I can refer to you by, messier?”

He gave me a sharp look, “I do. But you won’t know it, at least not now.”

“May I leave then? I don’t wish to overstay my welcome, you understand.” 

Now the man frowned beneath his half-mask, “Why would you wish to leave so soon?”

“I have to get back before anyone worries that I’ve gone missing.”

An amused smirk curled his mouth. “Fine. Though we will now be carrying on our lessons here, this way no one shall ever hear your singing if they venture near your new boudoir.”

“I’d hardly call it a boudoir…” I bashfully mumbled under my breath.

“The inviting fop of a Vicomte seemed to think so.” 

It was then that I realized there was no arguing against him. Not when he always watched over me and had likely seen the gentleman come into my room, as well as whatever he’d done when he left. A new thought occurred to me: had this tutor witnessed me in all of the dressing rooms between shows and rehearsals? Why did he watch over me so incessantly? How come I didn’t seem to mind? He pervaded every inquiry in my mind now that I’d seen he was tangible, not a heavenly spirit, and I think I brazenly preferred it this way. 

My tutor delivered me back to the dressing room, which was somehow even more full of flowers placed over the vanity and stacked neatly on the floor over at least half of the room. I was luckily undisturbed for the majority of the morning and afternoon, only a few people coming to congratulate me with their sleep-riddled voices on that quiet Sunday. The secret of my tutor remained tightly sealed in my lips, even to my two dearest friends. 

I returned to my dormitory bedroom, collecting my things and carrying it all in my arms down to my new room of residence. My tutor made no other appearance throughout the day, partially to my inexplicable disappointment. Instead of dwelling on this sentiment, I turned my mind to the upcoming rendezvous with the surprisingly simple nobleman. I had to present myself well and I sincerely hoped he was a kind man; at least that he behaved unlike how I’d seen the stagehands drunkenly address chorus girls. 

The springy green gown I donned looked suitable to the sunny weather outside my thinly curtained window. My hands smoothed the material over my body as though they could iron out any old folds in the fabric, as I didn’t know anyone in the theatre besides the urgent seamstresses that had a smoothing iron for such clothing. I put on my finest set of jewelry in hopes that it would distract him from noticing any impropriety. Pins held my disheveled hair into an elegant style and I set off to find the Johns off somewhere in the theatre buildings. 

However, they found me scurrying about first, “Y/N? Where are you racing off to?”

An alleviated breath pushed through my frame as I pivoted around to face them. “Looking for the both of you, actually.”

“Then why are you dressed like you’re seeking out the queen?” John quipped.

Jones gave him a look and quietly informed him of the Vicomte’s apparent liking to me. 

“Ah, then you should let us come along as your honorable chaperones.” 

“John, as much as I appreciate that offer, I don’t believe it’s necessary. You may discreetly follow along in case things do become… unmanageable.” I stated delicately.

From the look on his face, I could tell he was dead set on this compromise and I could bet on catching his visage in the corner of my eye through the evening. Changing the solemn tone of the conversation, John reached up a hand to lightly ruffle my hair despite my protestations and began recounting the success of my debut, rightfully giving himself some of the credit for volunteering my name to the clueless new directors. Through this lively conversation, I hardly noticed the arrival of the Vicomte until Jones directed my attention to him.

The nobleman walked through the grand entrance of the theater and greeted me cheerfully, dressed almost quaintly for someone of his status. He didn’t seem pretentious or rude – much more like a prince in a fairytale than any of the other nobility that ever came to watch performances here. I shyly bestowed my gloved hand into his, feeling better about this when I took note of the welcoming reception he received from my friends. 

“On my word of honor, you’ll be perfectly unharmed and I shall return you here before the sun sets.” He promised, leading me by the hand into the elegant carriage outside. “You’re quite a lovely sight in that green, my dear.”

“Thank you, Robert.” I replied shortly, wondering exactly how tolerant of a man he was.

“How long have you been performing?” He inquired, his blue eyes focusing their undivided attention on me.

“I was in the ballet and chorus roles since I was very young, that’s how most of us start our education at theatres.”

“Did they never notice your brilliant voice in the chorus? Surely they must’ve heard it soar above the others.”

I smiled bashfully, “It was only a few years ago that I was guided in my singing.”

“Be sure to thank your tutor for me.” Robert noted. 

We strolled through manicured parks as we continued our discussion of occupations and interests. The late afternoon sun and the gentile conversation warmed me comfortingly, the guarded hesitation that gripped me before now dissolving away with each passing minute. Robert was far more open than almost any man I’d ever encountered, as I learned, and intently listened to anything I had to say. We dined at a posh restaurant that was filled with the most prestigious patrons and lavish furnishings. 

He gifted me another bouquet of lavender roses from a florist before bringing me back home, boldly kissing my cheek and tickling my skin with the bristle of his moustache. I thanked him for the lovely evening and he confessed that he wished to see me again if I’d permit it. Butterflies returned to my stomach as my feet glided along the smoothed stone floors and I smiled to myself on my path back to the dormitories. The roses were placed in a vase beside my bed. 

I was luckily left alone for the rest of the evening as I hummed cheerfully to myself and allowed myself to be overtaken by the silliest of dreams after removing my constricting dress. My life had truly become a fairytale of sorts: nobility courting me, being whisked away by my ghostly tutor down to his lair, receiving recognition for my talents, dainty flowers filling an elegant dressing room reserved just for me, feeling my soul become entwined with the strands of music that entranced me for all my life. There wasn’t a single thing more that I could want besides a continuation of this dream. I sighed in pleasure and lied back into my pillow.

The voice of my tutor startled me amidst my reverie: “One could drown in that sound.” 

My eyes looked for him, wondering where he could be hiding now, and somehow unabashed in my lack of dress. I could feel my pulse quicken and my chest start to heave for breath, wondering whether he’d confront me about the Vicomte. He stood behind the door to my room, slamming it shut to reveal himself to me. His ensemble now was even more dramatic than before – lavish fabrics, ruffles, rich jewelry, lace, glimmering beads, embroidered details – from his shoulders to his feet. The tempting mask lay pressed to half of his face, stirring my curiosity yet again.

He continued: “Do you wish me to leave?”

“No, not at all.” I begged. “Please don’t.”

My tutor raised his brow, “You willingly come with me wearing only your scant chemise?”

“Have you not observed me in such a state before?”

“You think me to be so indecorous?” He scoffed and began to approach me. “I have never done such a thing, though I do think I enjoy this – delicate frills over your skin, jewels that aren’t nearly fine enough for you gracing your neck, careless waves in your hair, that glow in your eyes…”

“You’ve become a very unprofessional tutor.” 

“Never was professional, you just projected your own fantasy of an angel upon me.”

“And I don’t think my projections shall stop at least until you tell me your, very mortal, name.”

“If you require it as desperately as you confess, it’s James.”

He offered me his hand and I took it with blind faith.

“Prepare yourself, Y/N. The managers have placed all their hopes of success on your shoulders and there’s so much for me to teach you.”

A few months passed per my wishes, continuing this wonderful trajectory in my work. Robert visited me still, despite the cold remarks that my tutor threw towards him during our lessons. The theater was full every night there was a show and I was informed that it was all because of me. My only complaint was that I played innocent heroines manipulated by brash men or saved by kind princes in every single one of them. Never a story with further depth for my characters, but more than enough criticism from the perfecting James on how I sang their parts. 

He grew more irritable as the Vicomte snatched me up from my dressing room more often, myself eagerly going along with him then returning as flustered as my characters back into my lessons. There were occasions where he’d waste his breath for upwards of fifteen minutes scolding me for running off with the “blond fop” no matter how I argued against him. I could feel his possessiveness, but he always declared he was merely looking out for me and helping me remain focused in my work.

“If you wish to waste your spare time so uselessly, perhaps these lessons aren’t necessary to you.” 

“That isn’t at all my intenti- ”

“No? Then refuse him. I know you enjoy all of this and being able to be the mistress of your own fate, not pushed to sit at home as a quaint housewife to a generationally wealthy nobleman.”

I was aghast and demanded that he returned me back to my quarters. The tension in the air could be sliced with a knife as James silently stomped through the subterranean corridors. When he delivered me back to my room, there was a harsh and detached look on his half-masked face that intimidated me from saying anything else to him. I slammed the door shut then collapsed onto my bed, frustrated at how he could upset me so easily and that he was angry with me in the first place.

Part of me expected this to blow over, as my tutor was prone to temperamental outbursts and momentarily revert back to his collected façade. But he didn’t appear to me the next evening. I ventured into the dressing room where he’d first spoken to me, into the various hallways where he had tunnel let-outs, into Box 5 that he apparently frequented – all to no avail. Giving up seemed my only option after the hours ticked by and I lied down in bed without the reprieve of sleep until the wee hours of morning. 

My showmanship had faltered slightly but not enough for the directors to notice or care, especially since there didn’t seem to be a malevolent spirit terrorizing the theatre. I withdrew myself more often from company that sought me out, including Robert. Only my two musician friends were really permitted to visit me. The tutor I’d relied upon and looked up to for guidance was gone, a void filled my evenings. I truly missed him despite his rude behavior, and how rapidly he’d switch between moods, and his mysterious mask, and his tendencies to overdramatize my mistakes, and all his other oddities. He plagued my mind at any free moment, and I imagined that I was singing to summon him back to me.

A masquerade was to be held to hail in the new year and celebrate the prosperity of the theatre, myself apparently being the star of the occasion. I apologized to Robert for my standoffish attitude and he asked that I make it up to him by inviting him to the ball with me. He welcomed me with open arms and even took me dress shopping for the event. My heart started to warm towards him and his fair, boyish nature, especially now that my tutor had abandoned me. 

The evening was full of cheer and light with champagne being poured out like it was the elixir of life across the grand ballroom of the theater. Everyone dressed themselves in detailed costumes and swirled across the polished floors, their jewelry catching the light of the chandeliers above. Robert spun me around with ease, gently pressing his strong hands over my torso and making quips every so often until my stomach hurt from laughing. With the gunpowder spark of the fireworks outside, it finally felt like I was leading myself towards happiness after being so sullen with the departure of my tutor. 

People called me up to sing upon the center marble staircase lined with tall gold leaf candelabras. I smiled graciously, holding up my skirts to ascend the steps until I reached the flat break so everyone could see me. The pit orchestra was in full view up from the second-floor balcony and the conductor waved an introductory tempo to begin the introduction to a slower interpretation of an aria from the new Eugene Onegin opera. The character, Tatiana, sang of how she’d compose a letter to confess her love to Eugene and poured her heart out with every thoughtful line. 

My eyes were fixated up on the ceiling mural as I sang higher, narrowing my vibrato and letting out my own heart in gratitude to the man who gave me this voice. Through all the time I spent in trying to push him away into the furthest corners of my mind, his ghostly presence still lingered on as strongly as ever. This was the only time I allowed myself to accept it. I looked away from everyone, their judgement unable to bother me if I kept my gaze away from them, and my voice soared once again. 

Gasps sounded from below when I sang through the final measure, but there was no applause. I looked to the conductor and my friends, seeing them all staring wide-eyed in trepidation to a point somewhere above me. When I followed their stares I saw it too: a stranger with a death’s head mask, cloaked in crimson and black. I backed away from this figure down the stairs as it took slow, dramatic steps down. Robert ran up the staircase to my side, his hand grasping mine while I stood still as a statue.

“Why so silent?” The figure mocked in a voice I hadn’t heard in months. “Did you really believe I’d left you for good?”

The directors stuttered out faltered responses, realizing that they were finally seeing the phantom. This fiend responsible for driving the past primadonna mad with a particularly threatening letter, sending a chandelier hurtling to the ground when said primadonna tried to overtake my role as the lead, regularly extorting the directors for an ample salary, and inputting his artistic vision into every single show. He had disappeared for months and they were relieved, only to be terrified now.

“Have you all missed me?” He crooned, pulling a hand into his cloak and pulling out a thick manuscript. “I’ve written you a new opera, I advise you to comply or you will find that there are worse things than a shattered chandelier.”

He tossed the score towards the directors and turned his attention to me. I was already mesmerized. My hand removed itself from the Vicomte’s while I brushed past him and cautiously walked back up to meet this familiar phantom. His gloved hand was outstretched to me and pulled me closer to him like a magnetic force. I didn’t place my hand over his but stood before him, looking through the death’s head mask to see the familiar green eyes through it. 

“A special greeting to you, Y/N. I see you still disobeyed me, but it’s no matter now.” He spoke in a lower volume with a countered tone. “Your chains are still mine.”

I shook my head to protest, my mouth ajar with silent words, only to be hushed.

“You will sing for me.” He stated, pivoting around with the swirl of his cape and somehow vanishing through a cloud of smoke. 

The masquerade was unquestionably over with the phantom’s appearance and disappearance, the directors leafing through the pages of manuscript without understanding a single note. My friends had run down from the orchestra’s loft and Jones volunteered to examine the music. He beckoned me too, pointing out how bizarre and complicated this score was. The cast was listed carelessly save for my name at the very top. We elected to dismiss everyone home then study the music further in rehearsals. Robert offered to take me to his estate as a safety precaution, but I stayed knowing that this was my own battle to fight through James’ rules. 

My character was a youthful, but self-assured heroine by the name of Aminta. The story itself wasn’t particularly daring as I read through it, but the movement cues and instructions were far more intimate than any other show anyone had ever heard of. The final scene in particular was simply titled “Aminta Seduction Scene” with a fiery, sensual duet between myself and one of the tenors who was given the role of Don Juan. The music was in a difficult key with many accidentals and time changes, all of which I could learn with time. I only wondered what the composer’s intention was with this original opera.

Instead of leaving me completely stranded this time, my tutor appeared in my bedchamber after the day of our first rehearsals. He explained that I was to learn it alone, utilizing all of the advice he’d given me before and if I had any reservations or questions on the part the moment to speak was now. I couldn’t bluntly question him about the purpose of   
this performance, but I did make veiled advances into the subject.

“What sort of tone were you hoping for with my character?” I started.

“Very fluid – gentle and innocent, yet passionate and brazen when she wishes to be. You must be able to change the minutest inflection of your part in the blink of an eye.” He demanded.

“And the duet towards the end, how ‘brazen’ shall I be without causing the audience to see it as a scandal?”

“Cause a scandal. The whole point of the finale is a drawn-out, long-awaited unification and your character is a prideful lioness that doesn’t feel shame for pursuing her desires.”

“James- ”

“I have been patient with you and answered all of your inquiries, what more do you require of me?” He snarled, causing a strange wave hotter than the solstice sun to ripple under my bodice.

“Nothing. I would just like to express my gratitude for your return to me and that you’re bestowing your music upon us all.” 

He didn’t reply at first. The only response I received was a cocky, knowing grin on his face as he stepped closer to me and lifted up my chin with a single finger so I couldn’t turn away from him. I was hypnotized again, put under some sort of spell that bound me to him.

“Darling Y/N, you really thought I didn’t know? You practically worship me, whether or not you realize, and refer to me still as though I were that angel of your imagination. I could hear you calling for me through the walls and kneeling down at your bedside as though to pray to a saint but pleading my name in hopes that I’d return to you. Perhaps I somewhat grew to fulfill your fantasy in becoming all-seeing and all-knowing of you, so the very least you could do to repay me would be to play this role to the best of your capabilities.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, even more so when his finger slowly traced down my throat like a bead of perspiration and his other hand ran up along the side of my torso just barely teasing against my breast. The despaired knitting of my brows and parting of my lips only made him chuckle lowly.

“Why so silent, dearest Y/N?”

“I hadn’t realized that you were still watching me then, why didn’t you answer?”

“To prove to myself and to you that I wouldn’t fade from your mind with time or other distractions.”

“How could I? For three years you’ve tethered me to you through daily practice, commanding me to obey every single order you’d give me. It’s brought me to a contradicting state of simultaneous hatred and admiration, for as long as I shall live, whether or not you approve. You’ve made the bed and you shall sleep in it.” 

“Is that a double-entendre?” He smiled while I felt my entire body flush. “Your confession is endearing but I really must be leaving you now. Do your best, Y/N, sing as I know you can. And don’t think I’m unaware of your lionhearted lover thinking he’s the knight in shining armor coming to whisk you away, he will not be victorious in his plans to capture or reprimand me. Besides, you’ve made clear your loyalties to me and I swear to prove my reciprocity.”

With another characteristic wave of his thick cloak, he disappeared again and left me utterly perplexed with only the light of the moon through the window illuminating the room. If there had been any thought in my mind regarding an escape from this role, it was gone with the wind. He knew I would accept such a challenge if only to prove myself, and especially now that it was a role tailored specifically to me. She was multi-faceted, difficult to pin down, and I would play her if it killed me. Or more likely, brought down another chandelier. 

Rehearsals ensued with the cast walking upon eggshells, never doing anything too close to the performance level in fear of upsetting the all-seeing phantom who surely would retaliate if the proceedings weren’t to his standards. My singing would be urged down to a hushed volume in case I made a mistake to anger the vengeful spirit, and the physical staging or choreography were the only elements properly rehearsed. I was gripped by fear of what the opening show would be like given that there would be no run-throughs or   
mock performances. All I could do was lock myself in my dressing room to practice independently.

“You know you don’t have to go through with this, right Y/N?” Robert would question any time I confessed any hint of trepidation.

“But I do, and I do wish to do it. I’m simply afraid that the show won’t have the desired effect and that it would be my fault.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault at all, my songbird. Besides, a temperamental man like that is very unpredictable – he may enjoy the improvisations, especially with how utterly mad he is.”

“He isn’t mad. I am aware that he has reasons for behaving the way he does, even if it isn’t entirely excusable, and I chose to trust him. Besides, he never actually harmed anyone.”

“Yet.” Robert added bitterly. “I’ll have guards at the theater just in case, they’ll be instructed not to act unless someone’s livelihood is evidently in danger.”

My protective Vicomte wouldn’t take no for an answer, and my closest friends erred on his side of caution too.

The weeks reserved for preparation went by like minutes, throwing the entire cast, crew, and orchestra into panicked disarray only hours before the show was set to begin. My costumes had been made precisely to the orders of the manuscript, but it was argued that the final one was far too indecorous. But there was no time to alter anything and no one felt brave enough to defy the commandments of the phantom’s manuscript, so the show would proceed as planned.

In the first act, I merely made an appearance walking through a meadow and singing a simple song to myself while the arrogant Don Juan quietly observed. He went on after I’d left and told all of his friends or servants that he saw an angel, a goddess, roaming on the earth that day with the sincerest wish to see her again. His boisterous house burst into song while the chorus performed an intricate bolero dance in their marigold-yellow costumes. 

Aminta was spotted again in the market, by the Don’s friend who lowly wore a hat and covered his frame with a cloak. She mistook him for the master and eagerly made conversation with him, having heard of his divinely scandalous reputation. The friend kindly invited her to the master’s estate for the next evening, knowing that he could perhaps win favor from the master with this gesture. Aminta accepted the proposition, curtsying politely to the man in her enticingly tailored pale green gown as she left the stage with a basket of fragrant peaches. 

As I shuffled off back to my dressing room during the intermission, the preliminary anxiety trembling through my body had returned. It had melted away earlier once the show had begun, everything as smooth as clockwork. But now the truly challenging and likely controversy-causing part of the show was just beginning. I wrestled with myself, knowing that there was no alternative to performing this act to the best of my ability. Announcements of dwindling time limits were shouted repeatedly down the hall, moving me to get dressed for the finale.

It was almost entirely layers of white lace, allowing only the shortest of underclothes to be worn beneath it. A black corset was fitted tightly over my torso from my chest to my hips with red rubies gracing my neck and my feet bare. I had to continually pull the sleeves back up over my shoulder after they slipped down every few minutes. The skirts were hemmed asymmetrically, from my lower thigh at the highest to my mid-calf at the lowest. I felt very exposed yet freed in this attire. Walking to the wings only confirmed this sentiment as everyone seemed to stare at me.

The set was a bountiful table set with rich dishes and silver platters, deep red velvet curtains in the back hid away the bedchambers, twin staircases winded up to the catwalk overhead, and flames flickered along the very back of the scenery. Don Juan and his friend were guffawing in their success of leading the “poor innocent girl” back into the lair of the conquering master. Once they left through the opposite side of the stage, it was my turn to enter.

I strode along the stage to the table, retrieving a shining red apple and polishing in against the lace of my skirt singing per the script in an airy tone: “No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy / No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!”

Don Juan spoke to his friend, concealed from view, to shoo him away while he made advances to his guest. I sat at the table, draping myself unladylike over the wooden bench with my feet daintily up and my knees bent just enough for the skirt to fall further down my legs. There was an unexpected moment of silence while I awaited the entrance of the   
master, my brain already believing that something had gone wrong and all was lost.

But I soon heard the recitation of Don Juan’s monologue:   
“You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which ‘til now has been silent. I have brought you to me that our passion may fuse and merge. In your mind you’ve already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses and completely succumbed to me. Now you are here – no second thoughts – you’ve decided.”

I turned to face my Don Juan, the hood of his cloak so far down his face that I wondered how he could still see where he was going. He lifted the Spanish guitar propped up on the master’s leather armchair, fixing the strap of the instrument to his garbs so it wouldn’t fall, and played the few chords that served as my cue to continue his speech in song. My feet stepped towards him and my eyes studied the movement of his fingers as if I was in a trance. I sang with the same airiness as before, allowing my voice to fluctuate with the   
tone of the libretto’s lines.

“You have brought me to that moment where words run dry / To that moment where speech disappears into silence… silence / I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why / In my mind I’ve already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent / Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided, decided…” 

These words left nothing to the imagination, the audience already whispering amongst themselves at the provocation but too mesmerized to try halting the show. The Don Juan finger-picked a swift melody and suddenly brushed a loud, echoing chord across the strings of his instrument. This was an improvisation – it didn’t exist in the script, but I could feel the music within me and knew exactly when to jump in, the pit orchestra confusedly following along with the quasi-duet. 

I stepped before him, facing the audience so I could continue projecting my voice out to them in this far more passionate part. My Don Juan’s blistered fingertips grazed my neck and trailed down to my collarbones, pushing aside the loose sleeves off of my shoulders. I briefly noticed the very interested gaze of Robert from out in the audience, something unfamiliar in his expression, almost wanton. But I continued, the tone of the piece was infiltrating every cell in my body the way no other music ever had, per the pure genius of my tutor. 

“Past the point of no return - no going back now / Our passion-play has now, at last, begun… / Past all thought of right or wrong / one final question: how long should we two wait before we're one? / When will the blood begin to race? / The sleeping bud burst into bloom? / When will the flames, at last, consume us?”

If my tone had begun with at the glow of a soft candlelight, it had grown into a wildfire. The orchestra took over with a rising accompaniment as the Don Juan so urgently put aside the guitar and took me into his arms instead. An arm fastened over my hips and drew me flush into his frame, while his other hand drifted along my neck. My head was coaxed to the side and my eyelids shut delicately in Aminta’s state of bliss for this scene. 

But with the ending of the instrumental interlude, we disconnected far too soon and I truly felt a desire for that touch again. I followed the staging, walking to the spiral staircase on stage left while Don Juan approached stage right’s staircase. My eyes gazed longingly towards him, and as he removed the hood of the cloak. I could see through the black masquerade mask that his eyes were reciprocally drawn to me. This strange possession over my mind and senses somehow hadn’t kept me from performing perfectly – it was like being entwined with the music so intimately that it flowed right into me.

I sang out in a blistering inferno of a voice, standing at the top of the stairs with him opposite me and the length of a catwalk between us: “Past the point of no return / The final threshold…”

My Don Juan beckoned me nearer with a “come hither” gesture and I stepped closer to him. His arms wrapped passionately over my frame as I concluded the song: 

“The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn / We've passed the point of no return…” 

The orchestra accompaniment played through the full finale of the song with an uncertain decrescendo like tumultuous waves in the ocean when a storm died out. A velvet touch brushed along my bare skin and I shifted to face him, no longer following the script at all but only my intuition. My hand reached to press against the cool material of the mask over his cheek and I leaned in to delicately touch our lips together. Don Juan stiffened for a moment but held me close with one arm, disconnecting us to take my hand and add in his own lines.

“Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude…” He pleaded, much softer than before that I almost thought the actor was trying to sound like my tutor.

I felt a metal circlet placed into the palm of my hand and saw a beautiful, engraved ring there. My eyes widened in genuine surprise and looked to the Don Juan, his striking green eyes no stranger to me. Somehow along the course of the performance, my own tutor had taken up the stage and hijacked his own opera. 

He touched me so ardently that I had craved more. His music had saturated through my body and penetrated my soul. I kissed him of my own will. Much more, in front of an audience including the Vicomte that was courting me. Yet I still didn’t seem to care, affirming my sentiment by willfully placing the ring onto my finger. A gentle, loving smile could be seen just below where his mask ended, and I alone could see the glistening sheen over his eyes. 

The orchestra had cut out their playing, far too lost in all this improvisation to accompany what was going on onstage. Chorus members watched in utter confusion from below.   
The audience seemed paralyzed too. My tutor took my ring-clad finger and kissed it, holding it close to his heart with his next lines: 

“Say you want me with you, here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. That’s all I ask of you.” 

An overpowering mixture of both an adoration and a lust gripped me wholly. Merely nodding in confirmation of my acceptance wouldn’t be enough to foreswear myself unto him. After all, he was the one who’d known me most intimately for years and sculpted my voice into its acclaimed state. I could now recognize that bond I had to him was a repressed form of love, one that made me more than delighted to take this ring and whatever strings were attached to it.

I couldn’t help my hushed exclamation of veneration: “Oh, my angel.”

My voice, even this quietly, had projected through to the ears of even the furthest seats from the stage. I clapped a hand over my mouth in realization as I heard the gasps of people that connected all the clues and realized that this man was certainly not the actor mentioned on the bill. Others likely figured that something more suspicious was afoot and suddenly people began to shout. I clung to my tutor’s cloak in fear, wishing that we could both disappear before someone approached us.

His one arm shot up instinctively to a particular rope hanging from overhead while the other held me tightly into his body. He pulled the rope urgently and I only caught a glance of what was going on before we fell through a trapdoor in the catwalk. There was another opening in center stage and I felt myself falling through the air within James’ arms while people screamed loudly in utter shock. 

I heard my name being called too, but I only pressed myself closer into my tutor until we landed on solid ground. He braced my fall, both of us luckily landing on a softer surface in his lair with our arms wrapped around each other. His mask had almost fallen off so I could see just a hint of his true visage beneath it: his porcelain skin unblemished and flushed with a rosy pink from the excitement of the performance.

“Are you prepared for act four?” He stated breathily after checking to ensure that I wasn’t harmed. 

“Act four?”

“In which the protagonists put on a secluded wedding, as my dear lover did indeed accept my ring, to set an instantaneous bond to each other and… ‘improvise’ the moments afterwards.”


	75. the rock n roll circus: an encore (mick jagger & keith richards x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '68 Mick Jagger & Keith Richards x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "hello, could you write something nsfw where the reader has a threeway with keith richards and mick jagger?? :)"

Under the colorful candy-cane-striped tent of the Rock n Roll Circus, electric energy connected musicians and audience members alike. Everything was expectedly theatrical and brightly-lit. I danced around in the vibrant orange robe as incredible musicians and actual circus performers put on a show for us. My heart felt like a fireworks sparkler through every moment of it, anticipating what would happen next and eagerly watching, afraid that I’d miss something if I blinked for a moment too long. I knew I’d never forget this day. My place in the third row had granted me an almost perfect view of the stage and I was enamored by every single person that stepped onto it: Who, Taj Mahal, Marianne Faithfull, the ragtag Dirty Mac, and of course the Stones. The crowd grooved together around me with all of our arms looped over each other’s shoulders while we swayed along to the music. It was an indescribable feeling to have everyone, much more strangers, so in sync.

A never-fading smile graced my face, and it only grew wider when the Stones finally took the stage, now in their normal stage clothes rather than the circus costumes. I applauded and cheered excitedly, accidentally attracting the attention of the singer for a moment. He winked at me, my heart stopping for a moment, then began to rock his body along to the opening line of Jumpin’ Jack Flash. Their set flowed from livelier songs to quieter, more tender pieces that made the audience hush and still. Each of them sounded just as impressive in person as they did on the record, almost exactly replicating every sound on the studio versions. 

But there was a shift in mood when they started to play their infamous Sympathy for the Devil, everyone immediately recognizing it. Mick’s voice was emphatic and rough while Keith’s accompanying guitar deftly wailed along; something about seeing it performed in front of my eyes was so sensational that I could feel it pervading every cell in my body. The song continued, only fanning this flame of indescribable energy within me when Mick kneeled down at the edge of the stage with the microphone between his knees. He continued singing along to Keith’s solo, his fingers curling around the hem of his shirt and slowly pulling it off like a partial striptease for all of us in the crowd who cheered in encouragement. As he stood back up, dancing and delivering his gritty vocals, I noticed the little fake tattoos of devils drawn over both his arms then across his chest. I didn’t know what it was about the whole scene, but it was provocatively stirring and I continued looking on even as the song ended.

They threw on colorful robes to match the audiences’ and called out the other acts to do the same, then rowdily finding their way into the stadium-style seats that we had been packed into. I was in a state of disbelief when I saw the Who sitting two rows below me; if I leaned down, I could touch the back of Keith Moon’s head! My heart froze when I also noticed Brian, Charlie, Bill, Keith, and Mick stepping up just to my right up to the seats above me. They called upon everyone to sing their last song with them, the cameras now fixed over our section of the audience.

“Thank you all for attending our show, goodnight!” Mick shouted as the audience’s frenzied dancing died down.

I stood up on my toes to search for an exit and felt a hand grasp my shoulder when I took a single step away. My eyes followed up the ring-clad fingers and cloak-covered arm, intimidated that they led to a very familiar guitarist’s friendly face. Keith’s beautifully dark eyes shined down at me as his hand slipped down to hold mind, beckoning me to stay in place. He pulled me in closer so I could hear him over the noise of people filing out of the tent.

“Come back with me and my friends.” He offered, a clever smile on his face. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

There was no hesitation in my mind as I nodded my head. Part of me didn’t even think that this was real and I simply went along with this fantastic hallucination the way I would’ve done in a dream. Keith pulled me up to the next riser row, between himself and Mick. Now the singer turned his attention to me too and took my other hand, much to my surprise, then the two of them helpfully brought me down through to the back of the stage. 

They threw off their cloaks and I saw some of the other musicians conversing in the area, so larger than life yet so… ordinary. I was shuffled off through the bold red striping, thick cloth jackets, glittering gold sequins, pink paisley patterns, delicate frilled fabrics, long swathing shawls, and entangled electric devices from the musical instruments. It certainly felt like I was roaming through a circus or Alice’s wonderland, until we got out to the sleek cars waiting for the musicians outside. 

I was seated between Keith and Mick, the car driving off while the others sorted themselves out. The seat felt stifling, but in an oddly comfortable way with their hands on me and our hips stacked against each other from door-to-door. As the car was silent, my mind ran wild with thoughts of what could possibly await me when we would be let out. Could this be like a Pattie Boyd occasion? Or more along the lines of Pamela des Barres? Either way, I didn’t think I cared.

“Tell us, love, what’s your name?” Mick asked, turning his half-droopy gaze to me as he lit up a cigarette.

“Y/N.”

“Very sweet, did you like the show?” 

“Definitely. It was almost whimsical with the theme and obviously went perfectly with the music. I’m surprised no one else was clever enough to put on a show like that before.”  
Keith and Mick shared a look with raised brows, clever grins curling their lips.

“Do we have a critic or an artist in our presence?” The singer questioned.

“Just someone who adores the music.” 

He smoothed a hand over my cheek in approval, muttering something complimentary to my reply and making inside conversation with his quieter bandmate. They asked me other questions about who I was, what I did, my thoughts on various people or subjects, whether I had my eyes on anyone in particular that evening. I stifled a laugh at the last question and glanced between the two of them, not wanting to answer the prodding of either of the clear blue eyes nor the deep brown eyes. 

Mick looked away and sat up aloofly, blowing cigarette smoke through his lips. “I bet you just don’t wanna tell us ‘cause it wasn’t either of us.”

“No- ” I began before Keith piped up.

“Or it was one of us and you don’t want to pick a favorite.”

“No, not at all. You both jump to conclusions too fast.”

They turned to me and raised their brows as a request for me to continue.

“Well, you said ‘anyone’ and it wasn’t just ‘one’ person. I adored a lot of people on that stage pretty equally, but I’m flattered that it was you two over any other person.” I explained.

“Very good news for us then, you’re just very full of love then?” The guitarist inquired with a mischievous smile.

Once I opened my mouth to answer, my voice was caught in my throat with the sensation of the singer’s warm breath and lips on my neck. Surprisingly suave for me, I tilted my head around to grant him more access while keeping my eyes fixed on the other man. I leaned up to connect my own lips with Keith’s and to explore this dynamic between the three of us. The singer seemed to just take what he wanted, his teeth now grazing my neck and his hands pulling up the edge of the orange robe as well as the skirt underneath it. In contrast, Keith went along with whatever was going on and kissed me back deeply while cupping my cheek in his hand. 

The driver cleared his throat awkwardly and disconnected us with the announcement that we had apparently arrived at our destination. Mick smiled arrogantly into my skin as he pulled away, his hand slinking away from my leg and took hold of mine to lead me outside. I barely paid attention to the scenery and pretty, upscale building I was brought into with two sets of opposing, hypnotizing eyes alternating at studying me. My feet almost stumbled through the threshold of a door after going up the elevator with four hands wandering over my cloaked frame. 

I was shown into a posh room of lavish furniture and fresh-cut flowers over every single flat surface in the living room. There was a view and balcony out over the streets below, the dark glow of colorful sunset painting the early nighttime sky. Reddish amber and rich red drinks were offered to me in crystal glasses from the minibar off to the side by my two hosts. A twinge of some strange guilt twisted my stomach, knowing exactly what I’d gotten myself into by coming to wherever I was and especially with two rock stars with infamous reputations slandering them in magazines. 

They sipped down on the bitter alcohol then continued what we’d started in the car, slowly stepping closer and closer to the double-doors of the adjoining bedroom. They were luckily in sync with their corresponding actions and helping me in my distracted state up onto the foot of the perfectly made, pristine bed. I was lain all the way down then pushed along the cover blanket up to the row of pillows at the headboard. 

“Let’s see what you’re wearing under that silly cloak.” Keith initiated, tugging at the warm fabric by my shoulders as he kneeled over me. 

Mick lied at my side and reached to pull it over my head before I made a move myself.

“Such a pretty thing, no need to be shy.” He coaxed, fingers grabbing at my clothes underneath and sliding them off me too.

I drew my hands up through the thick locks of their dark hair in encouragement as they leaned down into me. Their soft liquor-soaked lips drifted along my torso and dared to reach the edges of the remaining scant, not-really-clothing covering my body. It was like the swathe of warm satin or silk against my bare skin and tickling underneath the lace being pushed off of me. I barely even noticed that I was now completely exposed with all the blissful sensations teasing along my skin. 

“Now watch me while I touch you, Y/N.” The singer commanded, motioning with his head to his friend to hold my hands out of the way. 

The singer stared at me intently, his upturned hand brushing up against me to make me shudder into his touch and clutch Keith’s hands tighter. A Cheshire cat grin widened along his red lips as he began a steady circling and pulsating rhythm with his fingers that made me squirm, bucking for more friction. I could tell he was getting off solely on my reactions that I just couldn’t stifle or fight back. It was like shaking off any lingering restraint and letting myself give in to this freedom, Keith’s rough nipping at my neck only heightening the floating sensation in my mind. 

I felt like I’d been set aflame, the heat of the fire slowly blistering over more and more of my body as their lips, teeth, tongues, hands traveled along my skin. A moment was granted for me to finally relax my tensed muscles while Mick readied himself and Keith smothered my face with his lips. My only warning to brace myself was the feeling of the singer’s hands press over my hipbones and then he pushed into me. A breath hitched in my throat and my stomach was taut at the sensation. Nervous anticipation dissolved away with an exalted sigh of bliss, a cool relief flooding my veins. 

But this calm sigh was cut off with a startled cry when Keith’s teeth bit into my chest, pulling hard at my nipple and letting go to the same rhythm of his partner’s hips. Indented marks dug into my skin, from the top of my neck to the curve of my hips. I whimpered and raked my nails down his back in revenge, earning a growl from the back of his throat as he bit harder at my hip. From there, Keith gave me a rest and moved onto tormenting Mick. 

Instead of wincing in pain, though, Mick seemed perfectly comfortable with it and reached a hand into the guitarist’s dark hair as encouragement. With a sense of finality, he snapped up his hips into me until I was shoved further up into the pillows and pulled away, his sticky white cum dripping onto my abdomen. I could feel the throbbing sting of forming bruises on my thighs, but it was more than worth it and the pleasure that was produced simultaneously eased away the pain. Whatever had brought me to this position in the capable hands of these two musicians, I was thankful for it, especially as neither of them looked particularly tired out and I still had a few rounds left in me. It was certainly an evening, and night, that I'd never forget.


	76. world turning (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '70 robert plant x fem!reader who's also a fairly established musician  
> Warnings: nsfw

From the minute he heard her world-shattering voice singing intricate, poetic lyrics paired with her intricate personal instrumentation, Robert knew he had to, at the very least, meet this songstress. He was lucky enough to have ample opportunities to try meeting her. His luck was apparently quite good, seeing that they could potentially run into each other in at least four cities amidst touring. Maybe it was wrong to go to such lengths to try getting to her, but who’s to say what’s right in such a situation?

First chance was in San Francisco, Zeppelin had the day off and Robert got Cole to figure out where his dear Y/N was staying so he could meet her before her show that night. After getting nicely dressed and paying a little more attention to his appearance than usual, he set out for the hotel. He didn’t want to seem crazed or desperate, so his plan brought him into the lounge area of her floor while waiting for her to exit her room. The book he’d brought along as a prop was thoroughly read-through as three hours passed by without a stir. 

Y/N finally came out of her room twenty minutes later, donned in a garb that made her look like a goddess even in the yellowing hotel hallway lights and some flowers dotted along the crown of her head. Robert froze and admired her graceful walk to the elevators, amazed that she was really right there before him. Suddenly realizing what he’d come here for in the first place, he rose from his seat and tried to rush into the same elevator as her.

He slipped in at the last moment, a red flush over his face as he greeted her and introduced himself on their descent together. There was a genuine interest in her eyes and she commended him for his work, apparently very familiar with the musical stylings of his band. It was high praise to Robert and he stuttered out a bashful “thank you” then wished her to have a good performance that night. She blew him a kiss with a friendly “until next time” as they parted ways. The barely-five-minute encounter was enough to get his heart racing and continue to race for the following hour when he recounted the story to his teasing bandmates.

Then came his second chance to meet Y/N properly – only a week later in Chicago. Robert didn’t track down her hotel this time but managed to sweet-talk his way into hanging around backstage during her show. Cigarette smoke clouded the air and loud cheers resounded through the thick walls separating this area from the stage. He watched her from the side of the stage as she sang and switched off different instruments until a sheen of sweat glowed over her whole face in the bright lights. They matched the dazzling nature of her smile when she bid the audience a goodnight and walked off stage towards the side Robert was standing at.

“Wonderful show, Y/N.” He complimented when her eyes met his.

“Hi again, Robert, didn’t expect to see you here.” She remarked with a cheerful smile.

“Couldn’t help it since I missed the last one.” 

“I appreciate it, but I’m sure you should probably be resting up since you’re touring too.”

She wiped her face delicately with a towel and kicked off her tall black boots, padding over to the dressing room barefoot.

“Well I had to come see you play live, and I also wanted to ask if you would want to come to one of our shows?” 

There was a hope and a hesitance in his tone, like he was actually afraid that Y/N would reject his offer as a means to personally offend him. Then again, who was he to doubt this lovely musician who’d only kindly welcomed his slightly odd behaviors? Robert waited for her answer as she went into the dressing room and started stripping off her theatrical stage outfit, not seeming bothered at all by his presence. He looked away uncharacteristically shyly which only made Y/N laugh.

“Mr. Whole Lotta Love is scared to see a girl change out of her clothes?” She taunted.

“Hey, I might sing about stuff like that but it doesn’t mean I’m an uncivilized beast. I’m just waiting for ya to answer my question.”

“I have no doubt that it would be worth my time, but I’ll have to ask you to convince me. Just to make sure.”

He furrowed his brows, “What d’you mean?”

“Well, I have a flight very very late tomorrow night so coming to see your show wouldn’t be the most convenient, no matter how much I want to come. We can either wait until the next time our schedules correspond… or you can convince me with a little extra encouragement. Only if you want to, of course.” Y/N explained, donning a plain babydoll dress over her frame.

The dots connected in Robert’s mind and his eyes nearly widened in realization at her proposition. Her directness was well-appreciated, but it caught him off-guard. Now she was the one to wait for his answer while he stood in silence and thought over the agreement to himself. They may not have known each other in this face-to-face sense for very long but Robert undeniably possessed some kind of love for her, or at least the incredible gift she had for his beloved field of music. This must’ve been what the less-experienced groupies felt like. 

Y/N took his hand and asked for his reply again. There was an eager twinkle in her eyes and curving the edges of her lips. Robert knew what kind of energy she was running off of now – the kind that comes from the buzz of the audience and the thrill of performing live, that doesn’t wear off until it’s expended in some way or another. He was all too familiar with that feeling and was only surprised that she had chosen to request his company for the night. 

But he went back to her hotel, hearing her beautiful voice rendered in a new song that pervaded his soul even stronger than anything else he’d ever heard before. He also discovered just how gifted her hands were beyond keyboards, fretboards, and whatever other instrumental devices she was skilled in on-stage. It was like being swept up by passion into the most intense throes of her music and paying homage to its creator. 

Those talented fingers left thin red scratches down his back that he’d have to cover up with a shirt. Her pretty lips sucked dark marks over his neck, so he’d have to wear one of Jimmy’s scarves to cover that up. He reciprocated her marking techniques, only to find that she wore them very proudly in the daylight, unlike him. Her hair was mussed and all she did was run a hand through it before getting dressed, looking like a windswept goddess walking amongst mortals through the hotel lobby with a more uncertain-looking Robert. 

“I have an interview in the afternoon but I’ll be at your show, don’t worry about it.” She assured, giving him a kiss on the cheek before he navigated his way through the streets down to where the band was staying. 

“Where have you been?” Jonesy questioned upon seeing his bandmate stroll down the hall after being gone all night.

“I went out to see a show.”

“All night long? Must’ve been very good.” 

“It was, and I’ve got a guest coming to see our show tonight because of it.”

The bassist raised his brows in reply, urging Robert to continue.  
“You’ll see.” He shrugged, unlocking the door to his room to go freshen up before anyone else had the chance to confront him about his last night’s whereabouts. 

Though this surety and confidence wore thin when the night was upon him, having spoken about his anonymous guest to almost everyone only to see that she had yet to arrive with only fifteen minutes to spare before the show was set to begin. Robert kept looking back to the clock, watching the seconds tick by and anxiously awaiting his guest. The rest of the setting had blurred out of his mind as he focused, neither hearing the conversations nor feeling the tug at his side pulling him over to the wings of the stage.

He only returned to the present when Jimmy called his name and his feet stumbled along with the prodding. His bandmate asked if he was alright, receiving a brief smile from Robert who was starting to feel a gloom settling in the pit of his stomach. She did say that she was pressed on time with getting on a plane that night and probably just wanted to seem nice by accepting his offer. There was still a stupid little wisp of hope that Y/N was late and would soon be standing here to watch him. Security knew she was supposed to be here, they wouldn’t stall her from entering at all. 

The rest of the band, aside from Jonesy, were standing beside him and silently wondering why their singer had such a long face. Their curiosity was quickly satisfied when they heard a cheerful voice called Robert’s name and recognized the woman approaching them. Now they understood Robert’s absence the previous night, his cocky secrecy from the morning, and his gloom from the past fifteen minutes. The bruises he’d left on her neck were on proud display as she embraced him. 

“Sorry I’ve shown up so late, the traffic blocking up the streets to see you guys was dreadful.” 

“It’s alright, I’m happy you made it.” Robert smiled, much more congenial than he’d been.

His bandmates piped up too: thanking Y/N for coming, exchanging names and niceties, throwing in a euphemistic comment that made her laugh, complimenting her musical work. She wished them all luck as Peter gave them a five-minute warning. Her arms reached around Jimmy and Bonzo, giving both kisses on their cheeks then turning to Robert. Him she kissed chastely on the lips, playfully pushing him out on stage when the band’s name was announced. 

That night, he sang for her. His passionate vocals became wild, untamed, and primal as he cried out over Jimmy’s impressive guitar line. Y/N was smiling in the wings whenever he glanced at her, only making him sing his heart out even more just to prove himself. There was one song left of the show – the dynamic of the band was bombastic, Robert was soaked with sweat, and he turned to ask Y/N to greet the cheering audience. But she was gone before the show could end, making Robert’s confident heart drop in his chest.   
He put on a strong façade and finished out the show, thanking the crowd for coming to see them then going off the stage with a frown. The gloominess had overtaken Robert again no matter how many times he reaffirmed himself that Y/N probably just left to beat traffic and make it onto her flight. But all hope was not lost – there were two more cities where their tours intersected so they could meet again. Robert only hoped that she’d be as eager to see him as he would be to see her.

In the following days of the tour, his yearning for her now manifested itself into his dreams. She would lie with him in every hotel room bed – on top of him, underneath him, at his side, in his lap, kneeling down at his thighs. The fragrant scent of her hair and sweet sweat pervaded his sense of smell as if she were really there with him. He could feel her soft skin against him and her hair tickling him. It was the most vivid series of dreams he’d ever had and only made Robert miss Y/N even more. 

The singer thought he was hallucinating the morning after they finally arrived in Boston. His heavy eyelids opened with fuzzy, clouded vision and he saw a blurred figure sitting down at the foot of his bed. As he blinked the sleepiness away, Robert noticed this silhouette was no stranger but the very character haunting his dreams. He didn’t even believe it at first – thinking that maybe he was feeling sick from all the travel and time changes. But when her melodious voice greeted him in a voice far more innocent than in his fantasies, Robert realized she truly was here.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He sat up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his messy hair.

“Paying you a visit since I left you hanging last time. You weren’t upset, were you?”

“N-No, of course not. You had a plane to catch and all. How has the rest of your tour been?”

“Not too bad. And sorry for bursting in uninvited while you were asleep, Robert.”

“It’s no problem at all.” He cleared his throat. “I just hope I’m not poor company in this state.”

She smiled mischievously, “I think we’ve spent time in each other’s company on hotel room beds and it was far from unsatisfying.” 

Her grin was returned by the sleepy singer, now feeling much more awake with his delightful, unexpected guest. He was hoping that Y/N would stay for a while, perhaps fulfill the scenes of his night visions. What he wouldn’t give to wrap his arms around her, tackle her down on that mountain of pillows, press kisses over every inch of her body, and show how much he missed her. That would surely make it a good morning. Against his fantasies, however, Y/N riled him out of bed and beckoned him to venture out in the hotel’s courtyard. Apparently, she wished not to just spend their shared time solely in small rooms and on the dark wings of stages. 

It was funny – he’d never really seen her in broad daylight with his own two eyes before. Y/N seemed even more in her element surrounded by manicured fruit trees, fresh air, overcast sunlight, and historic architecture than she did anywhere else he’d seen her. She was smiling ever so lightly, like a replica of the Mona Lisa, with her eyes as clear as tinted glass and a light breeze blowing through the loose fabric of her clothes. As they strolled along together, her hand never reaching for his, Robert silently imagined this muse-and-artist adoring the forested, rural landscape of his home.

They sat down at a clean sculpted bench, looking out towards the city beyond the short black iron gate of the hotel. Sounds of crows cawing and cars driving down the street was their accompaniment. Y/N sighed as she leaned back and lazily tilted her head to the side, looking to her companion. Her smile had grown wider while she reached to twirl her fingers along with the curls of Robert’s shining hair. It was still an unfamiliar feeling to him but more than welcomed – perhaps something he would be known for if he kept growing it out the way he had. 

“Tell me about the last city you performed in.” She requested.

Robert fulfilled her request, thinking back to New York… or was it Philadelphia? 

Her fingers began to pull slightly as she played with his hair, coiling it around and plaiting it loosely. It was no question at all now whether he’d want to keep it this long with how damn good this felt. Quiet whimpers began to slip from his throat and Y/N grinned wider at his pleased reaction. Her fingers deftly freed themselves and reached higher, up towards his scalp to tug a little harder just to coax a more… emphatic… response from him. She was successful – a hum buzzed at his pouted pink lips and he looked to her pleadingly through his lidded blue eyes.

“I think that’s becoming my favorite sound.” Y/N remarked.

“Back to the room?” Robert offered.

“Aww, too shy to try it out here?” She taunted teasingly and stood up, taking his hand within her own. “I’m pulling your leg, let’s go.”

The walk back to Robert’s room seemed far shorter than their leisurely stroll out to the courtyard, a new motivation making their feet bound through the halls. As soon as the door shut behind them, it was off to the races. Haphazardly-worn, loose articles of clothing were flung down to the floor in exchange for the warmth provided by the, luckily changed, warm sheets of Robert’s hotel bed. His flawlessly tarnished saint lied at his side with her cool hands pressed against his warm chest as she kept him pinned beneath her. 

From the confused, hazy, headache-inducing hell of touring around tirelessly, this was a heavenly release within it – the eye of the storm. His anguished breaths grew heavier and heavier with every roll of her hips while his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, imprinting little crescent moon marks into her skin. She was smiling with parted lips, short little pants mumbled between them, and looking down through her lashes at the rosy-faced singer lying completely at her whim. But when she arched back and grew far louder with her determined moans mixed with faltering calls of his name, Robert found himself crying out even louder in their tangled duet. 

“You put on a good show, baby.” She praised in a breathless tone, curling her fingertips through his hair again to make him whimper softly against her slowing, deepening rhythm.

“Please Y/N, please I can’t- ” He begged.

“Then let go for me, Robert.”

Her honeyed tone coaxed him onwards, bringing him to the very edge as he held her tighter in his grip and drove his own hips up harder. Desperation and chasing that blissful release was motivating him to keep going through his faltering, fighting to the very end. Y/N’s, no longer collected, pleas of his name in her slightly hoarse voice became the little rewards pushing him up to the crash of a long-awaited orgasm. He was finally fulfilling all those dreams from their previous separation, only now it felt far better. Absence clearly did make his heart grow fonder.

The lovely guest over his hips threw a leg across him, falling to nuzzle into his side for a moment. They looked to each other through their steading breaths and sated smiles. Y/N pressed a kiss to his strong bare shoulder and teased at the ringed ends of his hair. He gave her a jokingly warning look and took her hand.

“We’ve got one more day where our tours align.” Robert informed.

“I’ll have to see you then.”

“Will you burst in on me like this again?”

Y/N laughed and nodded as she donned her, fortunately, loose clothes back over her heated frame.

“I hope our paths cross more often in the future, maybe I’ll have a chat with your tour manager about it.” She remarked with a casual wave, disheveled hair and a gleam in her eyes.

Robert merely collapsed back, absolutely drained of energy, into the ruffled bedsheets with the closing click of the door. His hair splayed out over the pillows and he sighed, thoughts still running wild with thoughts of Y/N, not even a minute after she’d left. Her intriguing character was irresistibly curious to him. The only thing he didn’t wish to think about was if their touring world stopped turning, never letting them meet like this again.


	77. more family headcanons (jimmy page) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: none, just Jimmy  
> Warnings: none  
> this is very much based off his birth chart so it's not like cute little scenarios

requests: "hi! i'm in love with your writing about jimmy and his baby. maybe you could write something else like this? maybe with an older teenager?" & "hi, could you do domestic jimmy as a dad🥺 like how he truly love his family?? thanks!!"

-very long-lasting and sincere adoration for the people he chooses to have close to him in a filial way  
-arguably doesn’t baby his kids once they’re at a certain point since they’re capable of having/discussing their own thoughts and ideas   
-as a typical venus-in-the-second-house individual, he can recognize their talents easily and encourages them fully (especially if they’re related to arts or aesthetics)  
-very protective of his family and anyone he regards as being close to him because he takes any form of mild attack personally  
-on this note, very very very very private about any personal details concerning his loved ones and thus tries controlling the environment they find themselves in as much as possible  
-tends to dwell a lot on minute moments that passed ages ago, but he feels a little bad about or thinks about how he could’ve done something better  
-thanks to him, his kids know more about art history from up-close-and-personal views than most of their classmates  
-multitasking and thorough studies are a strong suit so he’s as close to being in two places at once as possible without sacrificing one thing in pursuit of another  
-very diplomatic and sharp-witted front when there’s a conflict between people he cares for even if it does really upset him under the surface of a collected façade  
-often likes to expel energy in creative ways, which is really great for little kids as they can participate in fun new activities together  
-in general, he seems to encourage a higher purpose behind doing things rather than making short-term and/or relatively conventional goals which leaves plenty of leeway to pursue things that really matter to them instead of what will make them the most financially stable (plus, it’s not like they aren’t well off)


	78. two of us (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x reader  
> Warnings: none!

requests: "imagine spending a rainy day with jpj🥰" & "could you write some cuddling fluff with jonesy pwease:)))"

“Y/N? …Y/N?” Jonesy called softly in a sing-song voice.

I groaned into my pillow and shifted around in the twisted sheets, forcing my puffy eyes to blink open. The room was just barely illuminated by the pale overcast sun outside while a spray of raindrops pattered at the window. My hands rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes, and I sat up a little.

He chuckled at my tortoise-paced movements, “It’s noon. You’ve got to get up at some point, love.”

“No, I don’t.” I declared and fell back into my pillow.

“Yes you do, come down with me.” 

When I still remained unresponsive, a strong pair of hands held me by the shoulders and pulled me up out of the mess of blankets. The cold air chilled me and I protested against Jonesy’s grip to no avail. He urged me on, getting me downstairs with a blanket like a cape over my back. I trembled against his body, latching onto his waist to steal away his body heat and earning a dry chuckle from him as he tried wrestling my arms off. He sat me down in the living room and went off to the kitchen, requesting that I stay put if I wasn’t willing to get up. I whirled my blanket around my shoulders so I was practically buried in it with just my head poking out as though childishly refusing to let go of my desire to stay in bed. Maybe if Jonesy was off a ways, distracted in the kitchen, I’d still have the chance to sneak back up the stairs and return to sleeping. I stood up from my seat with my plush blanket still wrapped around my frame, looking down to make sure the coast was clear as I tip-toed towards the stairs. 

My hand reached at the railing, about to get up and race back up to our room. But a pair of arms wrapped around me and the blanket like a vice, pulling me back around. I heard Jonesy chide me in my ear and scold me like a child for my attempted escape, prodding me along to the kitchen. His hand smoothed over my head while the other remained slung around my back.

“C’mon love. If you’re that tired, you can go back to bed after you have something to eat.” He encouraged once he sat me down in the kitchen in front of a plate of food.

“Will you leave me alone the rest of the day if I finish my breakfast?” I countered.

“I can’t promise that.” He smiled. “You’re adorable, and I can’t say I don’t want to go back to bed.” 

I gave him a look, “Then why’d you wake up? The both of us could’ve just stayed in bed all day long and you wouldn’t have woken me up.” 

“Fine, we’ll do that tomorrow.” He shrugged nonchalantly and sat beside me, unfolding a newspaper while I got started on my very late breakfast. 

Rain was still pattering at the window, the unwelcoming grey sky implying that we wouldn’t be venturing outside any time soon unless we wanted to be soaked. I remained fairly pensive as I half-heartedly finished off my meal, thinking about work or new interests I’d been wanting to try and tasks I needed to get done. Nothing too urgent or pressing, just thoughts passing through my mind like migratory birds peacefully flying through a cloud overhead. My eyes shifting to Jonesy and observing him silently: well-defined facial features, soft eyes with long lashes framing them, a warm pink hue to his cheeks, velvet soft lips, bronzy hair with feathered ends at his shoulders. Better than visiting a crowded art museum and just as beautiful.

Drinking down the last dregs of the warm tea, I looked back to Jonesy expectantly.

“Well, what was your grand scheme for the day?” I inquired.

“Nothing really. We can go watch a film or something.” He offered, knowing I wouldn’t pass up a chance to lie down and cuddle into him. 

So we settled in on the soft-cushioned sofa with some film I didn’t really pay attention to on the television and my blanket over the two of us. I curled my head in towards John’s chest and wrapped my arms over his torso to pull myself in even closer to his soothing scent. His arm smoothed over my back as he leaned down to plant occasional kisses mindlessly over my forehead. Every muscle in my body relaxed under his gentle touch and I lightly shut my eyelids as I pressed in closed to him, the strong scent interwoven into his sweater making my head light. My breaths slowed and deepened in my lungs, the rhythm dragging enough to make me even sleepier.

Jonesy must've thought I'd drifted off already as he curled over me, kissing the crown of my head and confessing to himself: "I love you, Y/N." 

"Love you too." I replied into his chest.

He chuckled, "Sweet dreams, darling."

I hummed in response as my arms clutched him tighter in an embrace. It was like the picture of ideal intimacy that I imagined when I was so much younger: a kind person who made me feel comfortable and the two of us could be satisfied with a simple rained-in afternoon, our arms binding us together. The faint tapping of raindrops at the windows and mumbled lines of the movie lulled me right back to sleep, an easy smile on my lips as I drifted off.


	79. angel (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader who's a 70s version of a victoria's secret model  
> Warnings: a little nsfw

request: "can you write something revolving around jimmy (circa 1971-1973) dating a victoria’s secret angel? (just pretend they existed back then lol) tysm! love your writing! 🥰🥰"

Runways in general made me nervous. Runways for well-known designers with massive crowds made me especially nervous. With Jimmy out in that audience, watching me for the first time, I wasn’t even sure how I was still standing up properly. The scurrying stylists seemed to notice as I fidgeted under their skilled hands that fixed up every single one of my hairs and painted up my face. 

This collection was centered around Valentine’s Day, evidently an important event for a lingerie designer. Several of the other models backstage were dressed in hues of purple, deep blue, cream, crimson, blush pink, and even emerald green. My first outfit was like a flowery Eve in the garden of Eden. Roses were created with fabric over my form and green foliage framed the edges of the set. Any makeup on my face was left fairly natural and I was given a laurel crown over my head to match.

I was instructed to step out barefooted for this own, opening the show once the stage manager gave me the go-ahead. Two other models were lined up behind me, both of them also wearing garden-like outfits and shifting weight between their two legs as anticipation mounted to a peak. Upbeat music started to play over speakers and stage lights brightly illuminated the runway. My eyes immediately looked to the stage manager, waiting on a signal with my heart beating out of my chest and sweat starting to moisten under my arms.

“Okay, one… two… three… go, Y/N!” The manager pointed to me.

A quick breath rushed into my lungs, my lips stretched into a sly little smile, and I braced myself for the harsh lights just outside the wings of the runway. I stepped confidently into the middle of the stage, stopping momentarily to face the audience and then strutting down the long, smooth lane cutting through the middle of the expansive room. At the end of it, I posed and saw flashes of cameras snapping at me from out in the dark crowd. A few whoops sounded amidst the calmer applause as I turned back around and strode to the backstage area again. 

The nerves were far from gone though: people were rushing around in elaborate costuming, stylists scolded models for moving a fraction of an inch, the designer was still fixing up tiny bits of stitching, stage techs were prodding everyone else to hurry up. It was theatrical chaos and even after taking just one moment to observe it, a stylist pulled my hand along so I’d go along back to my dressing room. 

This set was removed before I could pay attention to what was going on around me – unhitched at my back, slipped along my arms, and slid down my legs. I quickly stepped into a new one that the stylist gently tossed at me. A sheer mesh bodysuit was fitted perfectly over me with glittering gold sequins just barely covering my chest and hips. Matching gold heels were slipped under my feet and fastened around my ankles that were so tall I nearly stumbled over. Other touches of gold were quickly applied onto my eyelids, hair, and skin then I was pushed along back to the runway.

I shuffled in and out of other outfits as my mind got used to the rhythm, easing away some of the pressure to hurry up. My smile was less forced and my hips swayed along with the upbeat music, earning even more enthusiastic responses from out in the crowd. I even thought I could single out Jimmy’s voice amidst the cheering. It certainly was an eye-catching garb and I was a little sad to change out of it when I got back to my dressing room with three more sets to wear out onto the runway.

My last outfit was an ode to the goddess Venus with a gold crown of laurel leaves along the back and sides of my head. A thin layer of silk was draped carelessly over my chest, the fabric loose enough that only the peaks of my breasts were visible through it. The designer had fashion a plainer set of panties under an equally loosely draped, and very short, skirt barely covering the curve of my ass. A gold cuff was placed along my upper arm, my makeup was removed entirely, leather ribbons were wound up my calves from the flat sandals on my feet, and a thin golden body chain with a luminous opal pendant was placed delicately over my stomach. With that, I apparently fit the look of a deity and was urged along to finish off the show. The rest of the robe-covered models made way for me, flashing me their dazzling smiles as silent well-wishes.

I stepped out, full of satisfaction for not having fallen over or otherwise slipped up during this show. My head felt light and my smile was genuine once I reached the end of the runway. When I pivoted around, I saw the designer at the other end clapping for me and waiting with outstretched arms to greet me. With the designer’s arm over my shoulder, we both waved goodbyes to the crowd and I was dismissed backstage as the lights above the crowd were relit. Now came the afterparty.

It began with the invasion of my dressing room before I even got a chance to change or put on a robe. The staff and models congratulating me and me congratulating them right back, a sense of camaraderie between us all after the riffraff of a show. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres were apparently being served out in a separate hall where some of our guests would be joining us in some post-show dalliances. I promised to be out in a minute as they exited my dressing room, giving a perfect opportunity for someone else to slip inside unnoticed. 

Just as I turned away to find my robe and shed my costuming, a pair of arms snaked around my nearly bare midsection and startled my tense muscles. But I was drawn close up against a very familiar, thin frame and a pair of rose petal soft lips pecked at my cheek. So instead of kicking out this invader of a guest, I merely turned around to face him. 

“Hi Jimmy.” I smiled, wrapping my own arms loosely over his hips.

“Hi Y/N, quite a show you put on.” He remarked with a finger curling under my chin.

“Thank you, it’s all the stylists’ and designer’s hard work. All I do is walk.” 

“Then you walk and wear their work very well.” He chuckled, pressing his slightly parted lips onto mine. 

His gifted fingers danced along the silky skirt and pulled me closer, grasping right through the thin material at the flesh of my ass. A second earlier I’d only felt an innocent, happy relief but now arousal dripped through me and I no longer thought of the afterparty I was expected at just outside the dressing room. Jimmy seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, maneuvering us around so my back was pinned up against the door.

I was up in his arms with my legs hooked around his waist, easily feeling his hardness through my thin panties and his stylish trousers. My head leaned onto his shoulder so I could easily kiss along his neck, leaving behind rouge-tinted stains patched over his pale skin. Jimmy hummed in approval, tracing a hand over my cheek and his hips restrainedly leaning closer into mine. My legs squeezed tighter around him, my lips journeyed higher up to his jaw, my arms were thrown around his neck and pulled him close – I just couldn’t get enough. 

But soon enough, Jimmy took control with the curl of his finger bringing my head back up to lean against the hard surface of the door while he got to work. His hands smoothed down slowly over the thin golden chains along my hips, keeping one over my side while the other played along the waistband of my panties and eventually slipping underneath. I sighed into his touch and ran a hand up through his dark hair, encouraging him to keep going. He mewled softly against my skin when I tugged a little harder in the tone of a man lost in ecstasy, his lips peppering into me more frenzied than the rosy gentleness he started with.

“Mm, I’m going to guess this look achieved the designer’s desired effect.” I remarked with a light laugh.

“I hope you keep it, although I think I’ll prefer it off of you.” 

“Would you like to test that theory?” I said while batting my fluffy lashes at him.

“Can’t hurt to know for certain.” He smiled boyishly, moving his hand from my panties up to move the loose end of the “bra” off to expose my breasts.

“Very good start…” He praised quietly. “Though I think you’d be even better without th- ”

A knock came at the door to call me out in joining the party, wondering what was taking me so long. I hurriedly answered that I’d be there soon and internally groaned at whoever this was for spoiling the moment. Jimmy eased his grip on me and I slid my feet back down to the floor, fixing my ruffled hair then pulling my garments back into place. He didn’t seem much happier about this, asking that I make up a phony excuse to leave early and promised me far more once we went back home afterwards. 

I slipped a short little robe over my body, tying it at the waist and reaching to unlock my dressing room door. Jimmy gave me a light smack over my ass just before we stepped outside to partake in the festivities. If I wasn’t convinced before to get home as quickly as possible, I was certainly itching to leave now and felt the need to touch him in some way for the rest of our time there so he couldn’t part from my side. We might’ve spent a total of ten minutes having sips of drinks and exchanging pleasantries before I yanked him along the arm to the exit doors. 

Once we made it back to the car, Jimmy started the car and looked to me with a cocky grin: “Eager, are we?”


	80. fascination (john paul jones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: '69 john paul jones x fem!reader who's a photographer  
> warnings: slightly nsfw hint towards the end

request: "i wanna start off by saying i love ur writing!!! i can’t get enough of it ahhhh. could you write about a fem photographer photographing zeppelin, but she’s taking a liking to jonesy? you can decide how far they get with each other. thank you! xx"

I felt a little intimidating having such a spectacular group of musicians to photograph while their band was still a fledgling in the industry and also having their frightening-looking manager carefully observing the proceedings from behind me. The photoshoot was going on without a hitch and I was getting great photos with a few more unique elements to them. Each of the guys seemed to have their own personality that shone through very clearly and I did my best to capture what I saw with my eyes through the camera lens. 

The apparent leader was quiet but directive, with sharp green eyes and a delicate look to his face that was framed by perfectly disheveled black waves. Surprisingly, the blond-haired, blue-eyed singer kept mostly out of the way and compliant to anything anyone else said to him. But he was far from a shrinking daisy with that crooked cat-like grin hinting over his lips. The mustached drummer with beautiful just-barely-hazel eyes contrasting against his dark brown hair was somewhere between the two: confident and boisterous but also quite professional at the flip of a switch. 

But my main challenge between the foursome was the multi-instrumentalist they all nicknamed Jonesy. He had delicate, gentle facial features but they were set against an angular jawline and cheekbones. His eye color was difficult to distinguish from a distance, yet one could drown in that shade of ocean blue upon further investigation. The feathery, shoulder-cropped hair shone almost fox fur red in certain light but otherwise looked honey brown. He didn’t look like any other person I’d ever seen before in my life and had a clever, friendly, yet serious dynamic with his bandmates. 

“Okay, I think we’re good for today with group photos. I can get started on one set of solos, if that’s alright with you all.” I informed, putting my camera down against my chest.

“Well Robert and Bonz have the longest drives back, so probably best that they head back home while it’s still fairly light.” Jonesy commented.

“That’s a good point, and I can’t stay this evening either.” The leader piped up, taking his leave after thanking me softly. 

The other two left as well with their burly manager accompanying them out. I stood alone with the inscrutably lovely and charismatic multi-instrumentalist of the group. It was unusual for me to get this easily worked up over a person I had to photograph, and I’d done photos for a fair share of beautiful people. My cheeks felt flushed, my hands were unsteady, and my words suddenly felt uncertain as I turned to face him. Taking a calming deep breath, I suggested we move outside into the pretty meadow outside this estate they’d reserved for the shoot. With the nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, we found ourselves walking side-by-side out through the front door to the overgrown grasses outside.

We were lucky the weather had been dry all day. The evening sun was casting a beautiful golden light over the horizon, making his hair shine copper while he positioned himself in a crisscross seated position on the ground. I kneeled down across from him, leaning forward and shifting around to get just the right angle with the natural light. The soft expression on his face made me melt into a puddle at his feet and I almost did when I let myself take a moment to observe him through the camera. When he flashed just a hint of a smile over those soft pink lips, I swear my heart stopped. 

“Let’s, ah, try something different with these next few. Those angles at eye-level and slightly above are great but I think we can have you lie back a bit more, like you’re just relaxing out here.” I stuttered out, instantly regretting my proposition.

Jonesy lied down in the grass, a bright smile that rivaled the sun instantly appearing over his face as he tried to block out the sun’s rays with his hand. I got a few photos of him in that position then asked him to move so the sun wasn’t in his eyes, also regretting not just stopping already when I had more than enough good photos of him. Now that he could fully open his eyes to me, they looked up to me luminously and hopefully while I stood over him. I reached down hesitantly in a kneeling position over his hips, brushing strands of his hair into exactly the right spot and finding myself amazed at how soft it felt. 

Before I could entirely realize what was going on, his hands were placed over the outsides of my thighs and they encouraged me down lower. I put the camera back up to my face so he couldn’t see the sheepish smile behind it. My hand mindlessly pressed against his lower abdomen for balance as I leaned over to get the perfect angle over his face, only realizing the placement after a hushed groan purred in his throat and I felt something stiffen against my rear. I decided against saying anything. After all, it was probably an involuntary reaction and I was here for strictly professional purposes. ‘Just take the damn pictures and go. Just finish this shoot and go. Don’t say a word.’ I kept reminding myself as I shifted over his lap just a little more to get, what I told myself would be, the last photo.

Yet, when I attempted to clear my throat and move along, I found it impossible. Not from my own weak will but from the strength of his deft fingers fixed at my hips and refusing to let me go. The camera fell over my chest and I looked down to him perplexed, still not daring to say a word to him about whatever was going on.

“Come a little closer to me.” He requested. 

“I’m on top of you.” I pointed out.

“No, lean over.”

Slowly, I held back the camera from knocking into his reclining torso while confusedly following with his strange wishes. His hands swiftly drew up to my cheeks while his head leaned up from the grass, connecting our lips so softly and chastely that I thought I must’ve dreamt it up for a moment. Even if I had dreamt it, I wanted to taste that little bit of heaven again.

“Sorry, I just had to.” He explained vaguely, but I still understood and felt a flattery blanketing over my heart.

I removed the camera carefully and placed it delicately off to the side before looking back down at the bassist, “Don’t apologize. Do it again.”

Jonesy smiled again, although now it seemed a bit devious, and he pulled me back down so our lips met again. The warmth of the evening light surrounded us with its melting warm colors and flooded through our veins as they were pumping adrenaline into every part of our colliding bodies. I was thankful for the tall grass around us, acting like a shield from any potential prying eyes even though we were completely alone. It fueled my bravery to grind my hips over his as I was straddling him and delve my fingers through his hair.

With a deep hum against my lips, Jonesy pushed me off lightly. “How long is the building reserved for?”

I was perplexed but answered his question: “I don’t have any more time today but there’s about four hours tomorrow for your bandmates’ solo pictures.”

“Is anyone going to come check?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good, I don’t think I have enough patience to drive anywhere and I don’t think continuing this here will adhere to laws against public indecency.” He elaborated, helping me off his lap and pulling me along back into the house.


	81. rising sun (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: a little bittersweet & nsfw

request: "okay but passionate morning sex with jimmy before he has to leave for tour.... please omfg"

Twilight shone through the thin sheers covering the windows where the thicker curtains parted. Neither of us was really able to sleep, not with the lingering and impending gloom of the late morning when Jimmy would have to go. We’d gone to bed late after having a fairly quiet evening together, avoiding the subject of his departure, but now it was unavoidable. I could tell that he’d awoken from his shallower breaths and how he shifted around beside me. His hands reached for mine and I turned around to face him, a small smile on my lips in greeting.

“Good morning, Y/N.” 

“It’s not a good morning.” I argued. “Can’t be if you’re leaving.”

He frowned in sympathy, “I’ll be back. It’s only two months that we’ll be gone, then we’ll do a few shows here in Europe and I’ll be able to take you along with me for those.”

“I know… I’m still going to miss you every day of it.”

“I’ll miss you too, love.” 

My hands pulled away from his and placed themselves along the sides of his face. I smoothed away strands of his disheveled black hair and gently caressed him as though I could commit him to my memory with this ritual. He mirrored my movements but with one hand drifting down along my waist and hips, pulling us closer together so he could touch his lips to my forehead. His fingers moved from my cheek down along my neck, curling around it like a delicate necklace and trapping me in place. 

But it wasn’t nearly enough. With such limited time left for our shared morning, every second spent going slowly felt like it was being wasted. I wanted him to just take me, devour me wholly until I couldn’t take anymore and be left satiated for at least the rest of the day. Jimmy was still glancing over me and pressing feather light kisses over my face, still in the routine of long-lasting teasing. My restraint wore off completely and I pushed through his delicately placed hands to position myself on top of him. 

“Whatever happened to patience?” Jimmy teased.

“Fuck it, we only have three hours until you have to leave and I won’t waste that time.” 

I dove down to nip and suck at the pale skin of his bare torso, leaving behind pink-grey marks splotching noticeably against his skin tone. When I finished with one mark and I could hear Jimmy hiss at how it stung, I would leave a soothing kiss over it then move on to start on making another. His bruise-littered torso was spotted like a leopard’s fur once I was done. I even marked up his neck, knowing he’d have to cover up but finding the hum in his throat against my lips while I was doing it far too irresistible. 

Jimmy noticed the extent of my handiwork and tsked at me, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “Look how much I have to cover up because of you, Y/N. Very bad.”

“It looks nice on you, Jimmy.”

He gave me a pointed, scolding look then a mischievous grin, his hands moving to grip my hips.

“My turn,” was his brief warning before shoving me off to the side so he could trade places with me.

The air was pushed out of my lungs when I landed over the pillows and looked up at him. His fairly lithe body pinned me down with his bent knees resting towards the insides of my thighs, easing them apart. I was too eager to just go with it and crossed my legs around his hips, encouraging him to come closer up against me. Jimmy hooked a finger around the waistband of my underwear and pulled it off, forcing me to relax a little as he slid the fabric down my ankles. He teased me with two of his, very skillful, fingers as he shifted closer to me. I was given barely a second to adjust as his fingers pulled away and his cock quickly replaced them. 

A mewling gasp fell from my open mouth, my pleading eyes staring right up into Jimmy’s darkened ones as he leaned over me with my legs wrapped back around his bruise-dotted torso. His thrusts began slow and shallow, a trick that him being in control meant that he’d ease up the pace again. But in a moment, he snapped his hips forward almost painfully hard and continued this merciless rhythm. He was going to give me exactly what I asked for but make me regret wanting it from how rough he’d go about fucking me. I bit down on my lower lip to stifle my cries and dug my nails over his shoulders when I tried grasping at them for stability. 

Jimmy slowed only for a moment, his hand reaching to my mouth and fingers prodding through my lips. But he drew them back quickly, only lingering his middle finger over my lower lip as a silent command against trying to be quiet. The arrogant smile on his face revealed his satisfaction and pleasure in hearing my erratic whines, no longer held back now as he picked up his pace again. My legs squeezed around his thin torso harder, needing something to grasp onto yet also needing more of Jimmy. 

I could feel his breaths against my ear as our bodies wrapped around each other’s and his lips grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke in a labored voice: “Is this what you wanted?”

My head nodded against the pillow but that wasn’t enough for him, causing him to withdraw partially from me and ask his question again. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, Jimmy please don’t stop.” I said in a single breath, almost whispering as my throat started to get sore from the loud moans he’d extracted from me before.

Sweat glazed the skin over his brow but he snapped his hips into me again, diving right back into the fast and deep rhythm. His own soft cries and whimpers filled the room as he got closer up to reaching a high, simultaneously threading arousal through me with those beautiful, uncontrollable sounds. I watched his head as it tilted back, hair fell behind his shoulders or stuck to his forehead, eyebrows knitted in bliss, pink lips parted, and his back arch away as he tried to hold back just a little longer. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I fucking love you.” He confessed through lidded eyes looking down at me.

His pace had slowed drastically, very torturously pulling back and then erratically thrusting forward again. I curled my arms around his shoulders and mewled against his warm skin, nearly biting it when his hand reached down to work me up into a high with him. My body was thrumming to my wild heartbeat, everything pulsing at its rhythm like my heart was going to burst through my chest. His other hand pressed against my cheek gently as if to soothe the frantic nature of everything else and pressed his lips into my neck. I felt like I was going to shatter in his arms when I came right up to the brink of release, my whines impossible to hold back even if I wanted to. 

They seemed to push Jimmy over the edge too as I felt him throb and release into me, my name being chanted in his gravelly voice between fucks and Jesuses. We stayed with our arms and bodies interlocked until our breaths had relaxed, the air in the room cooling our heated skin. His arms drifted off of my frame slowly and I followed suit in letting go of him. 

We lied back onto the pillows side by side and breathless. Silently we began studying each other, trying to memorize every little detail of this moment for all the weeks that we couldn’t be this close for. A strange melancholy silence now filled the room and I could tell we were both swept up in the same whirlpool of thoughts. Most obviously, we’d miss days like this. There was also a constant inquiry on both sides as to what the other did during our time apart, but neither of us was brave enough to ask. A million little things were pulling my thoughts this way and that. But they were distractions from the precious few hours we had left before the tour kicked off, and for now, that was all I wanted to focus on.


	82. playing with fire (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw & marijuana use

request: "can you do an imagine where jimmy punishes the reader for ruining the last joint he has? thanks & cheers!"

It had been a frustrating evening for “the old girl” as G called him. His spare acoustic kept going out of tune, his dragon suit needed some mending, and his hair refused to cooperate with his efforts. Granted, none of these things would really inhibit his performance that night but it soured his mood and he’d been hiding out in the refuge of his dressing room with me, trying to remedy these issues in the last fifteen minutes before they had to be onstage. Jimmy drank down some of the whiskey he’d stolen from Jonesy as well as a joint, that he also stole from Jonesy, just to try ebbing away the bitter feeling of things not going his way. 

I promised to mend his suit later, as the 3-inch hole was down the side seam and an easy fix. His hair, I assured, looked just fine and he got his spare acoustic’s strings back into shape. He gratefully let me take a few hits off the joint. Bonzo, thankfully, called him out to join the rest of them for the show. I figured that the time out there and being able to lose himself in playing would help soothe away any leftover bad mood by the time he got back here again. 

Unfortunately for me, that meant I was to stay in this one room for at least two and a half hours with practically nothing to do. Sure I could leave out to the main area and chat with roadies or whoever else was back here, but my experience persuaded me otherwise. The roadies themselves were fine, but the others were a bit more of a challenge: Cole was a troublemaker that I learned to avoid, the groupies were either nice or ruthless but it was impossible to tell at a glance, stage managers tended to be judgmental, and any potential journalists would pretend I didn’t even exist unless I could get them an interview with the stars of the show. 

I flipped through a magazine that was lying over one of the tabletops, then I drank down a little bit of the whiskey. Jimmy had still chosen to wear his famed dragon suit so I couldn’t get to mending it now. The clock on the wall showed me that only twenty minutes had passed. Sleeping was a lost cause with the noise of their brilliant music echoing through the halls even back here, albeit a bit muffled. I perused through the whole dressing room, hoping to find something interesting to occupy myself with. 

Most of the little vanity drawers were empty. Jimmy’s little crimping machine was set off to cool on the side. There were a few old setlists I scanned over mindlessly. I could hear them playing Dazed and Confused through the walls, the eerie sound of the bow scraping along the guitar strings a bit muffled all the way back here. They must’ve been about halfway through now. Still, I continued my search until I dug up another joint amidst the mess on the vanity counter. I put it between my lips and lit it with Jimmy’s lighter, puffing out thick white swirls of smoke. It eased my muscles almost instantly and my head felt like it was humming quietly. 

My lidded eyes were heavy after a while, but still not yet sleepy. I looked over at the clock and figured they still had another half-hour left, lifting the joint from an ashtray to take another hit. Well, venturing out wouldn’t be so intolerable now and I needed a little fresh air, not that backstage air was all that fresh. It seemed less crowded back here than usual – likely since we were in a smaller town and there weren’t nearly as many dedicated followers as there were in New York or LA. Still, there were a few dolled-up guests waiting for the band to talk to, as the roadies were all busy working at the sidelines of the stage. 

“Where’d you come from anyways?” One of them interrupted the conversation, noticing that I hadn’t snuck in through the back like they did.

“I’m with Jimmy.”

Their glittery, kohl-lined eyes all widened to the size of saucers. “Really?!”

“Yeah, I’ve been hanging around for the northeast and Midwest gigs so far.”

They all erupted into a whispered chorus of “oh wow!”, “I can’t believe it!”, “what’s he like?”, and “can you get me to meet ___?”. I smiled bashfully, knowing after this long that they really were all completely human and not just the idols these fans envisioned in their heads. Sure, they lived unusual lives and had a fair amount of interesting activities and became their godly personas onstage. But they were still ordinary people, just better-known and enabled to be “celebrities”. 

G peeked his head round to where we were all gathered, motioning for me to get back to the dressing room since the show had one more song left. Seems “the old girl” still had a bit of a temper and ushering me off to the dressing room would ease the process of getting him to the plane without as much resistance. I gave him a thumbs-up in confirmation, bidding my company a good evening and telling them all not to try too hard to gain their attentions once the band walked through here. 

Soon enough, Jimmy was back and glistening with sweat. He dried himself off with a towel, changed into some spare clothes, and collected his things with me on the crook of his arm before heading out. I saw a few of the people I’d met successfully achieving their goals of talking to the band and flashed a smile to them. We were pushed out into the cars outside and driven off into the night to the airport. But on the way, I realized I’d committed a misdemeanor against Jimmy while he was playing.

“Where’d my joint go? I swear I had one left.”

“The one on the vanity?”

“Yeah.” He looked at me suspiciously, quickly connecting the dots but waiting for my confession.

“I may have taken it.” I mumbled.

“Well then I may have to remind you not to touch things that don’t belong to you, darling.”

“Jimmy- ”

“No.” He silenced me.

His arm around my shoulder corralled me up the steps into the plane between all the entourage members and guided me towards the sofa in front of the television set. He sat down, pulling me by the torso to sit on his lap then throwing a blanket over our legs. Jonesy began to plink over the keyboard with a freshly poured glass of whiskey while some of the roadies joined along in his singing, as well as Bonzo. Robert plopped himself down beside us to watch whatever was playing, making easy banter with the two of us. My seat wasn’t exactly the most comfortable and I was certain I wouldn’t get any sleep that night, but Jimmy seemed to be taking it easy on me. 

I spoke far too soon. His arms loosely restrained my hips and he asked me to get out his dragon suits pants for mending while we were just sitting around. As I leaned forward to reach his bag and dig through it, Jimmy worked quite quickly. I sat back, feeling a speedy brush of his hand over the back of my waistband and realized he slipped my jeans down my thighs a bit as well as the pants he’d changed into. He shifted me around over his lap until fully sheathing himself within me, almost making me stab my finger with the tip of a needle. I shot him a look but the icy sternness in his intimidated me back into silently following along, threading the needle and mending his stupid pants.

It was a bit painful at first and I froze for a while to adjust to the sensation, barely focusing on my task at hand. But the torment didn’t end there: Jimmy would occasionally decide to surprise me with a jabbed thrust and I’d almost scream whenever he did it. The pad of my finger was bleeding because I’d poked it too hard too many times in this game of his. The cocky guitarist took note and brought the finger up to his lips, pressing an innocently delicate kiss onto it then lightly brushing his touch over my torso down over my hips again. I wanted to squirm or get off so badly, but any time I tried his grip would tighten like a deadly boa constrictor. 

“Don’t you dare make a noise, Y/N. I can make this far worse for you.” He threatened into the shell of my ear, just low enough that Robert wouldn’t hear.

The curt instruction sent a rippling wave of arousal down through my body, only making this even harder to endure. Such a harsh punishment for a minor mistake, and in front of all these people too. I could feel sweat itching at my forehead from how flustered I felt so I tried focusing only on the hole in the pants, weaving the needle in and out all the way up along the seam until it was neatly mended. 

“I’m done Jimmy.” I announced in a slightly defeated tone.

“Very good, my love.” He praised condescendingly. “Now lie back on me and try to get some rest.”

I knew where this was going and there was nothing I could do to stop it. But, honestly, I was beginning to enjoy it – the riskiness, the novel activity, the sensational stretch, and that wonderfully cold tone that Jimmy used to deliver his commands. My head tilted back against his shoulder and my torso leaned backwards as well, my hips stuck in place while his tip prodded almost agonizingly against my wall in this new position. It took everything within me not to let out a whine or a whimper, especially when Jimmy teasingly slid up and down at a horribly slow tempo. I didn’t have to turn around to know he was widely grinning from behind me.

“Jim, are you watching the film at all?” Robert asked.

“Hm?” He turned his head, long hair tickling against my neck.

“You’re grinning like the Cheshire cat when the battle’s breakin’ out.”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” He explained, turning back to me and pressing his lips to my cheek. 

“Jimmy- ” I began in a labored voice.

“Ah-ah, someone needs to finish learning their lesson about patience.”


	83. chronic pain hcs (led zeppelin x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: led zeppelin x reader with chronic pain  
> Warnings: mentions of going through flare-ups of chronic pain

request: "Head-canons of all four lads and how they would deal with /care for a partner (gender-neutral) with chronic pain. Please and thank you"

Jimmy  
-Unexpectedly very empathetic with his own experiences of feeling as though his physical body was outside of himself, but knowing that it’s worse with actual pain bothering you  
-He’s quite sensitive about it actually because he can’t stand knowing that there’s nothing he can do when you feel bad  
-May have stupidly-ish offered non medicinal substances to numb out the pain because he couldn’t think of anything else nor stand to know you were hurting so much  
-The absolute worst day actually resulted in him shouting at nurses and doctors for not doing shit to help you to the point where you saw him stand at your bedside with tears on his angry red cheeks  
-Reminds you to take the meds the doctors finally prescribed to you even if he isn’t the most routinely organized type of person  
-If you start to halt in the middle of a task and be entirely seized with blinding pain, he is at your side lightning-fast trying to do anything he can for you  
-“Breathe, love, just breathe for me. You can do it. It’ll be okay.” 

Bonzo  
-Becomes the most intimidating person ever with a single glare and remark to anyone who questions the validity of your condition  
-“How ‘bout I punch you in the damn face for twenty minutes straight? Is that ‘not real’?” – his favorite thing to say to the doubting individuals  
-In contrast, he’s very cuddly and soft to you with how he’s always checking in to make sure there isn’t anything he can do to ease the pain just a little bit  
-Encourages you to rest a lot and non-cooperation results in him physically herding you over to the nearest comfortable place so you can try to get a little sleep  
-Lets you know that you don’t have to prove anything to him or fight to pretend that you’re okay when you aren’t  
-Often talks to you quietly until you fall asleep about any subject under the sun because he’s noticed that you always seem to relax when he does it  
-Very good at listening to anything you have to say so you don’t feel like you have to hide or downplay your condition to him

Jonesy  
-Completely sympathetic to you and tries comforting you in any way possible, which is different from the estranged or confused reactions of others who you have to comfort instead by masking your pain  
-Shyly side-steps into a conversation about when it started, where it hurts you the most, what helps relieve it a little, and trying to figure out what could work even better  
-Pleads you to be completely honest and open with him about the chronic pain rather than blow it off as something you’re used to  
-“Not acknowledging what’s hurting you isn’t going to make it go away. You’re making it worse to process and deal with by refusing to think about it, I’ve always got an open ear for you.”  
-You start talking with him more about it, recognizing in your mind that your symptoms were all valid and you weren’t faking it as many people would assume  
-It also helps remind you that pushing yourself too hard only makes it worse in the end so you start noting when to pause and rest rather than keep going on at something  
-He’ll be very protective and make snarky retorts to any of those sorts of people that doubted you were in pain or that it was really that bad

Robert  
-Refuses to leave your side if you’re having a particularly bad time so he can wait on you hand and foot because it’s the very least he can do  
-Often offers massages, actually on a daily basis despite having no experience easing flared up body parts with his hands  
-Also makes quips about his kisses being magical and cures to mild pains, just to take your mind off of it a little when it’s starting to bother you  
-When the pain is almost completely unbearable, he grabs you up in his arms and assures you with soothing words while patting his hands over you where he knows you aren’t hurting  
-Always remembers to say just one encouraging thing to you each day just to make you smile a little  
-“I’m so proud of you, baby. You’re so strong for getting through everything you did today. Hell, anything other people do, you can do fighting through your condition.”  
-But also tries to avoid smothering you too much or sounding ingenuine by asking if he’s making you uncomfortable at all


	84. golden muse (robert plant x fem!reader) - collab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader who's an artist  
> Warnings: nsfw 
> 
> I collaborated with @/nature-and-music on tumblr for this one

A few hours passed since my early rising as I stood before my sketchbook and easel, drinking down cooled tea with a glimmer of warm sunshine outside. I tried sketching out some forms and subjects to paint, finding myself completely dissatisfied with any of my old ideas. It would have to be something new, not overdone still-lifes of fruits or landscapes of daisies and irises in a meadow.

What exactly I had planned to create I was unsure of. My next piece needed to have something that would capture one’s attention. Something that conveyed beauty, life, and perhaps even love. Of course, a figure drawing was what I needed. Nothing expresses such qualities like the human form. Something, or rather someone that can be portrayed to convey that meaning. While I’m not a stranger, nor do I consider myself a professional critic of still life, it was time for a change. There was the matter of who was to be my subject for this project. This would require a person that, in my mind, was the quintessential model not only for their looks, but for what they meant to me. 

I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind, but I wasn’t sure how to go about requesting someone to be the subject of a painting. Clearly, Robert wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to his image being used publicly, but this was different. Being painted seemed more intimate and painstaking, requiring much patience between both parties involved while the artist dedicated hours to perfecting every last detail just the way they wanted. Capturing such a vivacious and multi-faceted spirit such as Robert’s on a canvas seemed impossible, besides the free-spirited texture of his unruly curls would be just as much of a challenge.

Not to mention finding the time between the band’s practicing and touring seemed practically impossible too. Still this was a feat that needed to be achieved, no matter how long this would take. I walked over to the window and watched as the clouds slowly moved along the clear blue sky. Stepping out onto the balcony, I took in a deep breath, gathering my anxious thoughts to a calm state. As soon as he stepped into the flat, I was going to bring up the matter. 

As though it was by a curse, or maybe a blessing, I heard the door to the flat click open and saw Robert come inside after spending the morning in the recording studio. He called out a cheery greeting to me and my pulse started to race. My mental planning was blown into the wind but I told myself it was now or never, forcing myself to face him right then. I followed him along into the kitchen and decided to hint around the subject so maybe he’d offer to be my subject without me bluntly asking him. 

“So, how was practice?” I asked him with a little smile.

“Oh it was absolutely wonderful! If only you were there, just the way we were able to record the latest track. I can’t quite explain it, it’s as if everything is lining up perfectly for the album,” he explained ecstatically.

He was certainly in the merriest of moods today. He was practically radiating warmth with just his smile alone. Perhaps I could consider having him smile for the portrait, that is if I ever managed to ask him. Robert hoisted himself onto the countertop and leaned his head against the cupboard doors, biting down on his lip. I handed him a can of fresh cola and quietly sipped on my drink as he continued to go on about his day. While the two of us were interested in a form of the arts, unfortunately performing arts was not my forte. Yet when Robert spoke about the matter, I kept my ears open. The sound of his voice was like a blanket, soft and warm; yet there was something about how he spoke which garnered my full attention. Perhaps it was his little quips, his dry humor, or just the way words sounded like musical notes. Whatever he had to say, I was listening. 

“Well enough about my day, what about you? What have you been working on?”

“Um, well, I have something in mind, actually,” I blubbered hopelessly.

He got down from the counter and stood close to me, “Go on.”

“Well, I’ve thought about trying something... a little different than what you’re normally used to seeing, Robert.”

“And what might that be?” He quirked his brow, his signature crooked grin hinting over his lips.

“A kind of portrait. I’m not sure exactly how to explain it but it’s going to be something that really captures a person’s essence, not just their physical appearance.”

“Sounds interesting… it’s like a personality painting.”

Robert waved his hands out in the air as though dramatically presenting something to an invisible crowd.

“That might be a good term for it. We’ll see how things go when I get started and then maybe you can pick an artistic term for it once I’m done.”

“Well I know it’s going to turn out wonderful, however it looks in the end. I only suggest that you fulfill my silent wish and paint me. After all, I’ve been told I have quite an ‘essence’ so it’s only right…”

I breathed an internal sigh of relief that he’d made the offer before I had to outrightly ask him. My sigh, though, was soon replaced with good-natured laughs and a shake of my head watching him switch between pinup-style poses for me against the kitchen counter. This reaction seemed to egg him on as he climbed up and lied down on the counter with his hip popped out, the pose enhanced by an overly-enticing expression on his face. I beckoned him to me so we could start, causing him to nearly fall into the sink as he shimmied his frame back into an upright position and followed me over to where I’d left my art materials.

“I wasn’t completely serious, Y/N, you don’t have to use me if that’s not what you had in mind. Though I’m very flattered to be a muse.” 

“I’m very happy to use you as the subject here, if you still want to be. I know you were joking around, Robert, but I really think you would work great with this style of painting.” I explained quietly, my eyes drifting down to stare at the floor.

“Do you really think so, darling?” 

He rested on the couch and contemplated the possibility of becoming your subject. True that he was used to seeing himself in a number of photographs in newspapers, magazines, and gossip columns; but there was something about being your muse that seemed enticing. Robert scanned over the numerous materials that scattered the floor and coffee table. You were quite the busy bee, especially since art was your passion. Anyone could see it; Robert could see it even more than others. While the two of you had been together for some time, it seemed as if there wasn’t much time to take part in the traditional aspect of the relationship. Going out to see a film, having a quiet dinner, and taking a walk in the park seemed out of the question. Perhaps there could be more to this matter than being a model for a painting. 

“Where do you want me?” he looked over as you were crawling around to gather your graphite pencils. 

“What? What was that?”

Robert smiled at my apparent surprise and explained: “Well if we’re doing this, I’m at your service however you want me. So, go on… tell me what you want me to do.” 

Flabbergasted by his request, I quickly got up and cleared my throat. I thought about where in our flat would be the right spot for him. The bedroom, no that’s much too obvious. The kitchen, well not enough room for him to be comfortable. The balcony, absolutely not knowing that there could be a nosy paparazzo nearby.

“Here, on the couch,” I meekly replied, as I walked around, attempting to picture not only how I wanted him to pose, but how I could utilize the physical space as well. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I went over to our room and rustled around until I found my large sketchbook, erasers, and sharpener. I peeked through the bedroom door and observed as Robert tried out different positions. At first his body mimicked that of an unconscious woman lying upon her fainting couch. He then lied on his back and placed a leg on the arm of the furniture. I held back a snort when he imitated Burt Reynolds’ bear skin rug centerfold; a single arm wasn’t going to be enough to cover himself completely. With a huff, he stood up and guzzled down his cola.

“I must say, for someone that is known for his movements, you certainly need some help,” I chortled, placing my supplies on the coffee table. 

He tensed momentarily, surprised that I’d seen him shuffle through his pose repertoire, but sat up with a good-natured smile: “That’s just my warm-up.”

“Alright then, what’s your pose then?” I inquired.

With a quick shuffling of his feet over the floor, he parted his legs in his seated position and kept his hands in the air just over his hips while they gestured down below his ornate belt buckle. His face remained in an aloof, dignified expression as though sitting in a portrait befitting royalty and certainly not drawing attention to his own dick.

“Robert…” I trailed off, shaking my head into my palm. “No.”

“Only joking,” He assured. “You’re the artist, you direct me around however you like.”

I leaned back with a hand pensively placed under my chin. The reclining wasn’t too bad but it looked strange with him doing it, at least for this purpose. Maybe if he sat up postured as he just did, minus the gesturing, it would look regal. All he needed was a fur-lined cape and a crown atop his golden curls to appear noble. But his true character didn’t align with that identity. 

What to do with Robert then? Suggestiveness ran strong in him, both seriously and jokingly. Yet he was very sweet and more than willing to apologize should anyone misunderstand his quips. He was extraordinarily gifted and still humble. I tried to figure out exactly what archetype to put him into and found myself lost in a conflict there. When my gaze shifted back to him, he remained patiently waiting for me to finish with my thought process. Damn it, this was harder than I thought it would be. 

My feet stepped forth to my waiting subject, still having no idea what exactly I was going to do but electing to figure it out along the way. I reached out to mold his frame slightly off to the side then told him to relax his posture a bit. He reclined against the back of the sofa casually, looking up to me for approval. My hands eagerly reached to the long hair framing his face, tangling my fingers through its unexpected softness and rearranging it precisely over his firm shoulders. 

“Okay, now stay.” I teased, stepping back with my hands extended out as though referring to a puppy. 

“Do I get a treat for this?” He played along.

“We’ll see… for now, seriously, stay still for me. You can talk and all, just warn me if you’re going to move.” 

I flipped open my sketchbook to a new page and sat down across from Robert, roughly drawing his form over the sofa with a smudgy graphite pencil. My eyes would flicker up to him while I pursed my lips in concentration, studying every slight detail of the view before me. He was fighting off a smile as I sketched, and I was all the more happy for it when I decided that it was exactly the expression I wanted on his face: mischievous hint of a grin, a jovial gleam in his eyes, a slightly bashful rosiness on his cheeks. It was perfect.

We sat in complete silence, the only sounds in the space being the pencil and our breathing. Was he feeling nervous about this? Or was he perhaps being polite in order to keep still for this drawing? However much time had passed, I found myself enjoying this session with Robert. We finally had an opportunity to spend quality time with one another, albeit a bit unconventional than what most couples are used to partaking in. The rough sketch of his figure had soon transitioned into becoming the man before my eyes. While there were a number of rough and sketchy lines that needed to be worked on, the piece was coming along surprisingly well; there was still much to do of course. 

My observant eyes scanning his body, taking in everything that was before me. The way his hands rested upon the couch, fingers gently arching into the cushions. The soft curvature of his smirk making his little dimples prominent. His floral blouse, loosened with folds streaming along his torso and onto the furniture. Golden spun curls cascading along his shoulders, covering just a bit of his face and the sides of his eyes. Perhaps this was my own adoration of him, but he truly seemed so regal, godly, and yet innocently natured. His physical features while strong and sharp, simultaneously seemed delicate and smooth. Everything about him mirrored that of painting from the Pre-Raphaelite era. Romantic, mysterious, alluring, and possibly even dangerous. 

“Robert, do you need a break?”

“Yes, that would be nice. I wasn’t sure how long you were going to keep working,” he chuckled and stood up to take a peek.

“Not yet, there’s still more that I need to do,” I retorted pressing the book close to my body.

“Oh come on, please?” he begged, fluttering his lashes.

“Absolutely not, you’ll just have to wait.”

He stood close to my chair, placing a hand upon the arm, and proceeding to angle his head, giving me the most pathetic pout that I’ve ever seen on a person. Did he seriously believe that was going to work? I stared at the man in disbelief, rolling my eyes while doing so. Robert then got down to his knees, resting his chin on the arm; his expression remained the same. 

“Oh stop that, you are such a child!” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I thought you said that I was a puppy,” he remarked.

“No, I said ‘stay’ Robert.”

“Then I do believe I am to be rewarded with a treat, darling,” he declared, a smug grin plastered across his face. 

“Is that so? And what kind of ‘treat’ am I supposed to be rewarding you with?” 

“Y’know, sitting for hours like that is just grueling work… and after hours of working at the studio these clothes are so stifling.” He added with emphasis. “I think I should be compensated with more than just a short little break, no?”

“You haven’t been posing for hours, love. It’s just shy of two hours.”

“Still, it’s just not comfortable.”

“You could’ve said no.” 

He was absolutely incorrigible and I knew what he was truly getting at with these protestations but chose to ignore it. 

“No, I’m more than happy to be a muse for such a gifted artist. But I wonder if I can push your boundaries a bit more, have you ever done a nude figure?” 

“Robert. No.” 

I stood up from my seat, still holding the sketchbook tightly under my arm and going to the kitchen for some water. Robert followed me like a shadow, still trying to convince me of his novel idea. My eyes remained fixed on him as I listened while my mouth stayed shut, merely smiling or laughing at some of his more outlandish logics. Part of me wanted to attempt this just for the sake of playing along with his mood but I wanted to take advantage of my creative energy with this piece while it lasted. 

“You’re not going to convince me otherwise, so forget it.”

“We could make it tasteful,” he commented.

“You? Tasteful? Oh please, you’re about as tasteful as a Playboy cover,” I quipped.

“I will admit, I think the rabbit ears would work-” he persisted.

“No, we’re not doing it that way,” I interjected, giving his arm a light shove; although now that image has been burned into my visual memory, and it would appear that Robert could tell.

“Then pray tell my dear, what did you have in mind?”

Oh, that bastard and his way of speaking. He was certainly a sweet talker, he could say something absolutely filthy, yet it would still sound so smooth coming from him. I couldn’t resist his charm, but I couldn’t crumble to him, at least not yet. 

“Why don’t you go and relax, before you get stiff. And don’t bother making another joke, I’m aware of what I said,” and with a turn of my heels, I walked off to the bedroom to hide the sketchbook.

After a quick shower, Robert walked over to the kitchen in his robe and watched as I was dicing some mushrooms and onions.

“What are you making?”

“Just a quick stew for tonight. Could you wash and chop the carrots?”

He ripped open the plastic bag and followed suit. While the smell of boiling vegetables was emanating from the pot nearby, something else was wafting about. There was a particular scent coming from Robert, I detected a hint of fresh flowers and citrus combined with his natural musk; how oddly enticing. I nibbled at my lower lip as I scraped the vegetables into the pot. After Robert completed his task and placed his carrots in the stew, we arranged the table for dinner. When everything was ready, we spooned the food into our bowls, and took our seats on the couch. Flipping through the channels, we found ourselves watching a couple of reruns of a sketch comedy program. There we were, my head resting within the crook of his neck; breathing in his aroma. Robert with his hand on my shoulder, absentmindedly massaging it; his fingers gliding from my arm and to my neck. Once the shows ended, he turned his head and pressed a loving kiss to my ear. 

“Do you feel like sketching more tonight?” he whispered.   
I shifted back into a seated position and took his hand in mine while I thought aloud: “I could. The lighting isn’t the same as it was earlier but I think I can rework it as I draw. Then again, you seemed tired out after the first round of sketching so maybe I should be the one to ask you if you’re feeling up to it.” 

“Definitely feeling ‘up’ to something.” He remarked to himself, just barely loud enough for me to hear and biting back a cheeky grin.

“You’re impossible.” 

“And you love it.” He smiled proudly while I stood up to flip open my sketchbook away from his prying eyes. 

After several hours having passed, I could look over my work with fresh eyes and better assess it. For a sketch that took less than two hours and had quite a bit of detail within it, I was surprised that it had turned out that well that quickly. Maybe the motivation of a new idea made me work faster, or I predicted Robert would try something funny and I’d have to work quicker to avoid it.

But the thought of him wearing those ridiculous bunny ears was too amusing to try not to recreate. I’d just have to hide this one from him or he’d never get off my back about trying to paint his “tasteful” idea. Picking up a pencil, I roughly outlined just from his shoulders up. I drew a headband along the top of his mass of hair then added the ears, one upright and one curved over as per the typical Playboy image. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad of a look but I was not about to hand Robert that victory and promptly shut my sketchbook the minute I finished adding some detail to his face. 

“Okay, I’m done for now.” I announced.

“Can I see it? I’ve been very accommodating.” He reminded me.

“Nope, you’ll see the painting when I’m finished with it. But you will have to pose again so I can do a color study.” 

“Very well, although I do wish you would show me what you have so far, my dear. I really do want to see it.”  
“You will Robert, soon,” I added, grabbing my box tin of colored pencils.

“Why are you starting with a blue pencil?” he pondered.

“It’s to help with establishing the basic shapes for your face and body; that way I can build on what I have to create the final product,” I answered as my eyes darted to the paper and to Robert. 

“That’s just like creating a song,” he mentioned with a big smile, observing your busy handiwork. 

That was the wonderful thing about being with someone who also had an interest in the creative arts. While the work that we had dealt with was different in terms of its presentation, the processing stages were quite similar. There’s an idea or a theme that one considers, to which you find and follow the steps to achieving what your finalized piece. While the work in progress was a timely effort and it could at times be strenuous and frustrating, that was the fun part. Even with all of the failures that are made, one can learn from their mistakes to see what they can improve on. In terms of which colors to use, I found myself drawn to the warmer end of the color spectrum. Something that would not only make him appear as such, but to also present his personality to the viewer as well. A person whose presence shined like the sun and could make anyone feel welcomed. 

Varying shades of brown, orange, yellow, red, and gold like the morning sun appearing over the horizon were to be utilized for his structure, clothing, and hair. However there was the matter of a cooler color that was to be included for his eyes. Those captivating, sparkling blue eyes that shimmered like the ocean after a raging storm; I wanted his eyes to be the contrasting element that would capture the onlooker. The same way Robert would enrapture an audience of thousands within an auditorium with his voice. The figure would be unable to speak, but the figure was to be portrayed in a manner that would be able to communicate to a spectator. Suddenly, a cleared throat punctured the silence of the room.

I glanced up, still lost in the whirlwind of my thoughts on all the colors I’d plan on using and inquisitively looked up to Robert.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, it’s just that I’m getting a bit tired. Would it be alright if we continue tomorrow?” he requested, arching his chest and stretching out his arms.

“Yes, of course. Sorry I must have lost track of the time. What time is it actually?” 

He peeked past me at the clock on the wall, “Nine thirty-five.”

My eyes widened in surprise at how quickly the time flew by when I was distracted by an artistic endeavor. Robert smiled as he waved me over to him, knowing all too well that mental state of being wholly-consumed with a project. I leaned into his strong frame and welcomed his arms embracing my now-fatigued body. The daylight outside had been completely extinguished, giving way for moonlight to dimly stream in through the windows. 

Once Robert released me from his arms, I let myself collapse down on the bed with my face buried in the blanket like a tired child. He laughed lightly and pulled me back up into his arms, trying to urge me into the bathroom rather than just letting me fall asleep at the foot of the bed in all my clothes. But I stayed firm in my exhaustion through his prodding, until his hands reached to pull my shirt up over my head and start tickling at my sides. Only then did I shoot back up to fight off the miscreant. 

“Fine, fine… you win. I’ll go brush my teeth and take a shower.” I declared, rubbing my eyes as I wandered over to the bathroom.

After cleaning my teeth, I proceeded to turn on the shower; the bathroom mirror began to fog up. As I was about to take off my bell bottoms, a pair of large hands assisted in removing them. 

“Here let me,” he whispered as he unbuttoned and tugged the jeans off. 

I allowed my body to relax as Robert undressed me. He placed soft kisses along my exposed skin with each article of clothing that he shed. 

“Robert, please I don’t want to waste any water.”

“Who said anything about wasting?” he asked untying his robe.

“Really? Is this because I won’t draw you in the nude?”

“Ah, so you are interested?”

“Shut up,” I remarked, stepping inside with Robert following me. 

The warm water felt fantastic; muscles easing and tension vanishing as the water streamed along my nude figure. Lathering the soap bar between my hands, I scrubbed my shoulders and the back of my neck to ease my sore aches. Robert’s hands were dutifully keeping my skin clean, using the loofah on my back and stomach. After passing the bar to him, his hands became the replacement to the exfoliating tool. He proceeded to massage my shoulders, pressing his fingers into my skin. Molding and carefully grabbing the areas that were in need of a mechanical manipulation. 

“Oh Robert, that feels amazing,” I sighed, pressing my back closer to him. 

“Anything for you my love,” he whispered. 

His hands had then made their way toward my breasts, gently tracing the shape between his fingers; holding them tenderly in his palms. His lips trailed along the back of my neck, nibbling at my earlobe. My jaw dropped a bit, my hips trembling as I moaned into his touch. 

“Tell me where else do you feel tense?”

A smile crept over my face, “Well mister-massage-therapist, I think my shoulders are the most tense but you ought to test out a bit more to make sure I don’t have any other tension. Then I can repay the favor.”

“Sounds like a fair deal.” 

His hands started at my shoulders, carefully brushing away any wet hair from interrupting his process and kneading at the muscles with his fingers. I involuntarily leaned back towards him with my neck starting to arch back at how good it felt. The warm water only enhanced the sensation, working out all the stiffness until it felt like my shoulders had completely unclenched themselves and dropped lower with ease.

Robert then shifted his focus: gliding the tips of his fingers down my back with the droplets of water from the showerhead and curling in at my hips. His touch ran back and forth along the curve of my hips, from the small of my back to just over the tops of my thighs. I could tell he was trying to tease me and finally get me to comply with his desires now that I was no longer busy with the art. He certainly knew what he was doing, very successfully turning on my formerly-tired body. My hands reached back in response, one trailing down Robert’s cheek and along his neck while the other rested over his muscular thigh with the same teasing touch that he was giving me.

I rested my head back over his shoulder as he began testing me, letting his hands trail down lower and lower. My reaction was to lean my rear further back and give him a taste of his own medicine; just barely giving him friction where he was aching for it most. His breath came out as a quiet whine against my wetted hair and his hands pressed closer into my skin. When I purposely shifted my ass around a little harder over him, he flipped me around to face him and pulled me in close with his arms looped around the curve of my back. I still found the view of Robert with straightened out, darker wet hair funny and couldn’t hold back my smile as he stared me down predatorily. 

“What?” I questioned with a smug smirk. 

Even with those hungry eyes looking at me, he resembled that of a lion emerging from a watering hole. Intimidating, sure, yet less so due to the damp locks sticking to his face. His eyes drifted to my neck, watching the droplets gliding down with ease.With an arch of his eyebrow, Robert leaned in and kissed the moistened skin. As much as I was enjoying his lips, it was hardly affecting me just yet. My breath started to become a bit shaken once he suctioned his lips on my neck. 

Robert took my skin between his lips and teeth, his tongue venturing out to lather as well. Soft moans escaped my throat as he switched between loving kisses to hard sucking. One of his hands began to glide over my back toward my rear, his fingers tracing along the under curvature of my behind. Fingertips grazing along the supple flesh, inching ever closer to my core; purposefully missing it. He relished in my little whines as he playfully tortured me; I too was enjoying this as well, perhaps even more. 

Releasing my neck from his wet grasp, he pressed his lips onto mine. Eager tongues colliding, needy hands exploring, and bodies agonizingly close together. My fingers grabbed at his hips, pressing myself more into his hardened cock. While he enjoyed the feeling of my lower half rubbing against him, Robert kept himself composed; refusing to give in. Our deep kiss ended as I took in a breath, gasping as his fingers had finally delved into my petals. Fingertips thrusting shallowly at first, then swirling and arching as his digits pushed onward.

Just when I thought this moment couldn’t have gotten any more arousing, the thrusting abruptly stopped. He removed himself from my center, reaching over and turned off the shower. 

“That’s it?!”

“Well you said that you didn’t want to waste water,” he snickered as pulled the shower curtain aside and grabbed his robe.

Quickly snagging a towel from the rack, I dried myself off and found him nonchalantly reading Tolkien in the arm chair. 

“Robert! You better get your ass in that bed right now, and finish what you started!”

“Darling, please relax. Otherwise you’ll end up tense all over,” he commented flipping to the next page. 

The nerve of that man, leaving me this way. This self-proclaimed Golden God was being quite the obnoxious little trickster tonight. He couldn’t have been that engrossed in his novel; only one way to find out for sure. But instead of trying to physically work him up and take his attention off the book, I was more than happy to finish myself off knowing that I’d get an even better reaction that way. Robert’s eyes flickered up to me momentarily when I walked near him, evidently surprised that I brushed passed him and continued on. But he fixed his gaze back onto the page before I could turn around. 

I lazily stretched out over the bed and tossed the towel I’d dried myself off with right past Robert’s side. My now-massaged shoulders laid back over the pillows and I leaned my head back against the headboard. Warm droplets of water still dripped down from the ends of my hair over my exposed skin. I reached a hand between my parted thighs to rub soothing circles at my still-sensitive core and made sure to express my pleasure vocally. 

The singer had yet to turn around but I doubted that he was actually focused on his book now. I had to do something that would make it impossible for him not to ignore foolish pride then march back over here just like I wanted him to, and like I knew he wanted to do too. 

A deliciously devious idea had formulated. First, I began to quietly groan Robert’s name, as I continued to masturbate; keeping my eyes on him. Pressing my fingers further within myself, hips arching and wriggling as I called for him with shaken breaths. Robert’s eyes had peered over the pages, still keeping his nose firmly in the book; although his manhood was clearly sending him different signals. As I felt my inner muscles loosening and tightening, my nectar was trickling out; now was my chance. 

My fingers glistened as I brought them to my mouth, outlining my lips until they shined. Bringing out the tip of my tongue, I lapped and circled my moistened mouth. Finally, I placed my fingers within my mouth, savoring my taste; humming at the feeling of my fingers pumping. To add to the erotic nature of this scene, I placed my free hand within my center once more; varying the speeds and angling of my fingers, making sure to say Robert’s name any time I could. Would he really be able to resist my dripping honey? 

“C’mon Robert, you’re missing out.” I coaxed.

No reaction.

“Maybe I’ll do your little Playboy sketch if you can convince me it’s worth my time…” I offered instead.

His head turned this time with a hint of a crooked grin on his face. I wanted to crack up laughing at how pink his cheeks had become and how strained his robe looked, knowing I’d been hitting just the right notes all along. When he noticed my mocking expression and where my gaze was, Robert quickly placed the book down over his lap.

“I’d like to see you agree to that in writing.” He rebutted.

“If I don’t do it, I’ll spend all of Saturday doing whatever you want.” 

He narrowed his pretty blue eyes at me, his grin widening, and took the deal with a confirming shake of the hand. 

“You drive a very hard bargain,” he commented, tossing his robe aside and lying next to me. 

Grabbing my hand, he wrapped his lips around my finger and tenderly licked the moistened digit. Keeping his eyes on me as he placed his tongue between the gap of my fore and middle; pink lips softly capturing the skin and releasing it with a dampened pop.

“Clearly,” I added, eyeing his shaft. 

“Eyes are here darling,” he muttered, his smile still present. 

We made love that felt so tender and affectionate that night. There was no other place in the world that either one of us wanted to be, except in each other’s arms. He would blanket me in the warmth of his body and give me sensations I didn’t know existed before him. I curled up around him with his lips pressing against the crown of my head, entangled together while we caught our breath and drifted off to sleep.

In the early morning, I woke up to the feeling of a soft pair of lips placing a loving kiss on mine. Before departing to the studio, Robert whispered that he would return as soon as the recording was over. After having breakfast, I was able to take care of a few errands, stop by an art shop to purchase extra painting materials, and head back to the flat. 

To my surprise, Robert was already home. As he assisted me with the groceries, he explained that he was needed for only a few hours for vocals. The remainder of the studio time was going to be dedicated to instrumentals and sound mixing. After a quick bite of fresh fruit and sandwiches, he made his way to the couch. 

“Do you need any help with setting up?” he wondered. 

“No it’s alright, I’ll be ready in a bit,” I replied as I prepared the easel and canvas.

“What sort of pose shall I do now?”

I gave him a look, “The same one as last time, of course. I didn’t even start painting it so I need the lighting to fall over you in just the same way.” 

He sighed dramatically, disappointed that he couldn’t shed his clothes quite yet but complied with my directions. This time, he talked a lot more with me while I worked to fill in parts of the background and his form in general blobs of solid color, then starting to mix detailed shadows or highlights into the painting. I lent the overall setting much more warmth in color than it had in real life, turning mellow browns and tans into richer, slightly orange-tinted shades to reflect Robert’s aura shining through his surroundings. 

His features, however, were far more challenging. The color of his complexion was fair yet still tanned and a bit pink. His eyes were a stormy blue but appeared the color of a clear summer sky in brighter lighting. The waves in his hair were rowdy, never a uniform texture and there were so many layers of it. I had to comb my hand through his hair and study it before even starting on mixing tints. Different shades of yellows, whites, light browns, pale oranges, and shining golds weaved together until I got the closest possible match to the different colors of his hair. Even so, I still had to come back later and add more details once these layers of paint dried. 

The progression of the piece went swimmingly, still I felt that there were elements missing from the painting. Everything was there, the form, shape, color, and shadows; perhaps it was time for the two of us to take a break. After telling Robert to stay, I placed the easel facing a wall in our bedroom. Like clockwork, he held me close, resting his chin on my shoulder and nuzzling the back of my neck with his nose 

“I know that your answer will be a resounding ‘no’, but will I ever get the chance to see the painting?” Robert begged.

“Of course you will, just be patient,” I answered, turning around to give him a quick kiss, then heading off to the kitchen to make something to eat. 

The two of us made a pleasant lunch consisting of pasta and a small salad. Robert talked about his morning at the studio. He mentioned how Grant was persistent in having Jimmy work on the mixing for as long as he needed; even if the job went on well into the night. Bonzo and Jonesy purposefully messed around with the rhythm, much to Jimmy’s dismay and Grant’s temper. 

“You should have seen the looks on their faces. They looked like a couple of boys being scolded by their father,” he laughed. 

“Well, now they know for next time not to do that,” I snickered. 

“I was very close to joining them actually. It was a tough choice between imitating a parrot or making sex noises,” he reveled. 

“Ah, your two default vocals,” I hilariously remarked. 

He mocked offense as he clapped a hand over his chest, “You take that back!”

“Only teasing, you know I love your voice and even if it was squawking or moaning, they must sound very compelling on records to make you as successful as you are.”

“Well, you’d know best. At least in the latter case.” He said with a toss of his hair over a shoulder.

We finished our lunch and while Robert caught up on the book he didn’t quite finish last night, I brought out the easel to work over the mostly-dried layer of paint. It still felt like something was missing, like I could add something to make it a little more mystical but not detract from the realistic style of the painting. Maybe I could add a pattern to his clothes? No, that was too simple and would make it look busy. I looked through my set of piled-up art supplies for ideas, finding some not-yet-used sheets of gold leaf. 

Now there was an idea. The gold-colored paint worked well in his hair but it didn’t quite convey how it glowed in the sunlight, while the leaf would be perfect if I could apply it just the right way. I would add bits of it into the background as well to catch a viewer’s eye but mostly put in those thin wavy strands into his hair. The golden ring on his finger would be a good place for it too. It was settled right then: the missing touch was a touch of shimmering gold leaf and I was sure Robert would approve once I was finally finished with it.

“Alright Robert, just another feature that I need to add on then it’s finished.”

With the brightest smile across his face, he exclaimed, “Wonderful, I’m so happy to hear that!”

“You go and relax, I’ll finish the rest of it here. Shouldn’t take me too long now.”

“I’ll be in the bedroom, and I promise that I won’t peek,” he chuckled.

After dipping the end bristles of my paintbrush in water and applying gilding adhesive to the dampened area, I began to spread a thin coat to the desired areas. Once a few minutes had passed and the surfaces felt tacky to my fingers, delicately the gold leaf was lowered and spread out along sections of the background, some waves upon his locks, and on the ring; any excess bits were brushed away with a small, dry brush. Finally the piece was complete, he looked incredible; like a deity presenting itself among mortal beings. Casting its face through stormy clouds after a disaster; the sun bringing warmth to all. Perhaps this was my biased mind speaking to me, but this truly was the most marvelous portrait that I had ever created. Robert, my love, my muse, my everything; all displayed here on what was once a blank canvas. 

“Robert, you can come out now.”

While he was out of my sight, I could hear him springing up and running over like an excited puppy. He stopped in his tracks once he was in front of the portrait. Silence, only the sound of his hands gripping my chair and a quiet gasp departing from his lips. Minutes had passed and still no response, I started to feel a bit uneasy; surely he was taken away by this, I hoped.

Getting down on his knees and taking my hands into his palms, he gazed into my eyes, “You truly have a gift, my love.”

I could feel tears welling up within my eyes, he reached over and held my face in his hands; brushing the away water works and pecked my forehead. 

“You really like it?”

Giving my cheeks a loving kiss, he whispered, “I love it. I absolutely love this. You’ve outdone yourself. I will cherish this piece, the same way that I cherish you.”

All my worries vanished as he spoke to me; a weight slipping off of my shoulders. While I did have experience in figure drawing, any person that I knew, I could have made something and still be happy with it. Yet with Robert, we had a deeper connection; this was something much more significant to us. I would admit it’s difficult to describe in words alone what kind of a kinship that we have. As silly as it may seem, the old saying does ring true; a picture is worth a thousand words. A little snuggle session on the couch aided me in feeling calmer. Robert kept me close to his person, running his hands along my back; continuing to leave little kisses along my face, neck, and shoulders. 

“Oh, before I forget, I do need to tell you something important,” he mentioned.

“Is it about work?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. Let’s just say, I found something of yours under the mattress while I was waiting for you to complete your piece,” he noted with a chuckle and a guilty smile

Oh dear God, he couldn’t have actually found the rabbit sketch. I could feel my body burning up; whether it was in embarrassment or anger towards myself for hiding the sketch in such an obvious place, I’m not sure. He was never going to let me live this down; what he planned on doing next with this knowledge and the picture itself, I don’t want to know.

“I- I- I have no idea what you mean.”

“Tell me, do you suppose ol’ Hef will allow men on the cover? I mean, granted the magazine is for lads, but perhaps he could make a suggestion. I bet a number of birds may get a kick out of seeing little me on the next issue,” he happily disclosed with his widening Cheshire Cat grin. 

"You're so incorrigible." I muttered, smiling to myself and brushing my lips over his. “Besides, I don’t break my promises.”


	85. reflection (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: none

request: "Hi! I love your writings and was wondering if you could do a jimmy page imagine where he meets his match like someone who is just as mysterious as him! Thank you!!!"

Bonzo had been gone in the afternoon and there was an hour left until the gig started. Where he’d gone, no one knew. Robert and Jonesy predicted he’d gone off to that one car museum or a flashy bar around the Reno area. Jimmy didn’t care for his whereabouts but merely wanted him to get back already. He couldn’t have wandered too far away without much knowledge of the city’s layout. They were all gathered out in the hallway nervously, which was unusual for them but understandable for the circumstances.

Robert’s hotel room phone rang and he bounced up to his feet, bounding to answer the call as quickly as he could. Shit, what if his friend had gotten into trouble? They’d have to delay the show or worse, cancel it entirely. But he wasn’t that foolish, he wouldn’t purposely do anything stupid that would amount to those kinds of consequences. The singer yanked the receiver up to his ear and answered with a rushed “hello?”.

“Ay! Planty! I’m runnin’ a bit late from my little excursion but I’ll be perfectly early for the gig, I’ll just ‘ave to meet you all there. I’ve got a friend with me too, I think Jimmy’ll like this one!”

“Bonz, what am I supposed to tell Peter?”

“That I’ll meet you lot there, it’s not so fuckin’ hard is it?”

He sighed, “Just make sure you’re there early like you said.”

The other line hung up and Robert dropped the receiver back down, slowly walking out to his bandmates to inform them of the drummer’s change of plans. Jimmy’s eyes looked cutting but he brooded silently, irritated by this unprofessionalism even at the promise of interesting company for himself. Jonesy had a hopeful, relieved expression on his face. The three of them went down and rode on to the theater after pacifying an uproarious Peter. 

As promised, their beloved drummer was already at the venue and chatting up a storm. Peter scolded him earnestly only to get a shrug of the shoulders in return, Bonzo brushing right past them to beckon the guitarist to meet his aforementioned guest. The other two followed along out of sheer curiosity and to question the drummer about his whereabouts once the initial introductions were out of the way.

“Y/N! This is who I was talkin’ about earlier, this is Pagey. Or, well, Jimmy.” He began. “These two are Percy and Jonesy.”

They each caught the magnetic stare of the stranger’s soulful eyes, her stoic expression with a Mona Lisa smile, and her frame swathed in layers of black chiffon. Glimmers of silver jewelry distracted their gazes momentarily when she shifted around slightly, standing to greet them all. There was an aura about her – delicate, entrancing features but something mysterious lurking beneath it that made one avoid underestimating her. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” 

Her voice was precise, calculated… yet so soft that the room would’ve had to be quiet to hear her speak. 

“Pleasure’s all ours, love.” Robert grinned wolfishly, offering a firm handshake.

“Where’d you meet Bonzo?” Jonesy questioned after giving her a warm smile. 

“Bartender recognized him and asked him to come meet the only person who could give him a run for his money. Whatever context that was alluding to.” She explained.

All three of them looked shocked, understanding what the bartender had meant and wondering how this unassuming being could out-drink their bear-like friend. Jonesy muttered something about being right and pulled Robert aside, remembering that she had been invited to meet with their guitarist, not them. But Jimmy was still tight-lipped as he reasoned through all this. She seemed interesting but far more daunting than the other feminine company they’d get, in fact, it was a bit like staring into a mirror and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Her eyes lingered over him in silent appraisal and no hint of the judgement on her expression. “Well, I’ve been told a few things about you by your friend.” 

“And the verdict?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to get more concrete evidence of my suspicions before then.”

“Then tell me about yourself, I’m at a considerable disadvantage.” 

“Does that mean you want to know pedestrian things? Where I’m from, why I’m here, what I like to do… Or perhaps you’ll cut to the chase?”

Jimmy couldn’t help the slight smile edging at his lips, enjoying this challenge… this game of bantering with her. She was certainly amusing he’d determined despite having known her for less than ten minutes. He mentally thanked Bonzo but cursed the approaching start of the show, not willing to stop this conversation quite yet when it felt like the perfect battle of wits. It was like teasing the other in a game of chicken, waiting for the other to defect and drop the cool façade in favor of unrestraint.

“I’ll cut to the chase, darling.”

She gave him a distasteful look for the pet name before continuing: “Then ask me anything you like.”

“Would you have come to the gig if it wasn’t for our drummer roping you into our dressing room? Just out of personal interest?”

“You’re asking if I like your group… I thought you’d ask something more nuanced than that and ‘roping’ would be an interesting choice of words, no?” She smirked.

A heat rose to his head at the remark, figuring that Bonzo must’ve said something to her. But he wasn’t going to be the one to give in, not this soon in the game.

“I suppose it would be, though it may be illuminating to me that you focused on that part of my question.”

“Or you’re trying to hide something by deflecting it onto me. But to answer your question, I might’ve decided to come see your group – I’m not opposed to concerts and you all are undoubtedly talented so it’d be worth the tradeoff of my time. Which is why I allowed myself to be, ehm, ‘roped’ into this.” 

“I see.” He nodded. “You must join us after the show.”

“Perhaps I have a prior engagement and don’t wish to tarnish my reputation hanging around the likes of your band. Or I simply don’t wish to.”

“Your concerns are noted but won’t be entertained. I wasn’t asking.”

“Oh, now I’ll certainly escape during the show. So assured in your leverage over others that you don’t even think I have a sense of self-agency.” 

He gave her a pondering look, trailing from where her long, swished skirt just barely covered her feet, up along the torso where her skin tone was visible through the layers of thin black chiffon, and back into her unimpressed eyes. Part of him wanted to rip that afterthought of a fabric just to see the shock on her face, and he hoped he’d have the opportunity to do so after the show. If he could convince her to stay on. 

“No, Y/N, I think you’re enjoying this too much and don’t want to leave.”

Success – she was speechless for a few moments at the observation.

“You’re an arrogant bastard.” 

He chuckled, taking her by the hand and pulling her along to the side of the stage for the show that was about to start. Y/N resisted but stumbled along with heavy feet to Jimmy’s side of the stage, standing in the wing with her arms crossed and an irritated expression evident on her face. The guitarist ambitiously predicted he’d win her over, ensuring to play until his fingers bled if necessary and add as many flourishes as he could. 

Jimmy did indeed find himself lost amidst playing: his head shaking along to the organic beat, his fingers gliding faster than his brain could process what he was doing, his mind was spinning, sweat dripped down his body. The Dazed solo lasted for a half hour before Robert intervened and led them back to end the song. Bright, colorful lights flashing around them only enhanced the effect. An entranced crowd showed him exactly what kind of reaction his playing imposed upon ordinary people. As he occasionally stole a glance at Y/N, he noticed that her eyes had widened. A small victory, but a victory indeed.

The wild yelling and beckoning of the audience closed their show after Whole Lotta Love. Jimmy handed his guitar off to a roadie, happy to find Y/N still standing firmly in place with a stunned, frozen look. She hadn’t snuck away and would now be stolen for the evening. No attempt at words were made between the both of them while Jimmy guided her through the backstage area with a hand at the small of her back. Only back in the privacy of his dressing room did he coax a few words from her.

“What’d you think? Couldn’t have been terrible if you stuck around the whole time.” The guitarist grinned.

“Not terrible. Not at all.” 

“That’s all?”

“I’m no journalist, don’t expect an entire analysis from me. It probably wouldn’t do good to feed your ego either.” She hinted.

“Ah, so you did like it!” 

“I think, against better judgement, my mind has been made to accept your offer of evening companionship, wherever or whatever that may be.” 

She was hooked on, intrigued just enough to give in to this small thing. Jimmy would push Y/N on further and further as long as he could manage – she was far more fun to play with than the other girls and they hadn’t even done anything but talked. Jimmy was thrumming with contagious energy that Y/N caught onto as she played along more actively at the welcoming party in the hotel. The room was too hot for both of them, the clothes they wore becoming more uncomfortable by the minute from the sea of people crowding around. 

Jimmy sympathetically offered her a hand, whisking the both of them off to his room and locking the door. They simultaneously expressed the desire to shed layers of fabric from their heated bodies, silently coming to an agreement that it was alright. Y/N’s thin dress was zipped off and it cascaded to the floor at her feet, leaving only black undergarments underneath with her jewelry. Jimmy tossed his jacket over the back of a chair then turned to admire the form of his guest reclining over his perfectly made bed before joining her.

“This is unexpected, love. You seem more eager than before about all this.”

“Not eager, just cooling down. Touch me, I’ll punch your lights out and disappear before you could hit the ground.” She warned.

“Understood.” He nodded, folding his hands over his lap and staring straight ahead. “But what if you asked me to?”

“I won’t.”

“You seem so certain.”

“You might be a good musician, and good with your fingers, but that doesn’t give you a pass on whatever you want.”

“Let’s make a little wager with it then, shall we?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her head to him. “What are the stakes?”

“A week, at least, with me if I win. Whatever you want if you win.”

“And what qualifies as a win?”

“For me, if I get you to ask me to touch you by the end of the night. For you, if you don’t.”

She shook his hand easily, confident that she could beat him and adding that her reward would be the flowery kimono she’d caught sight of somewhere in the room. The accord was settled and they mindlessly watched tv from the bed, their restless minds still not able to be tamed quite yet. Jimmy knew this feeling very well, as it always came to him after finishing really good shows. He also knew that his guest would evidently be feeling this way too after such stimulation, needing to work it off in some way. She may have been stubborn as him, but he just knew she’d give in eventually and tried easing her towards his victory with a few gestures or not-so-accidental grazes of his fingertips over her skin. Long story short, he won the bet within the following hour. Though Y/N very gladly took her loss.


	86. have you ever loved a woman (jimmy page x fem!reader & fem!OC) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader & fem!OC  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "Hi! If you're still taking requests, could you write a threesome with Jimmy and two female groupies? Thanks!"

The lobby of the luxurious, refined hotel had turned into an uproarious circus when the band came to town and everyone seemed to be holding their breaths as a fleet of limousines arrived out front. I was amongst the crowd, all of us fighting for elbow room and for the band to see us. Most of us were too busy looking out for a familiar face than trying to get rid of each other, though there were some ruthless ones that didn’t hold anything back to get to the front and shriek obnoxiously. I rolled my eyes at them, pushing through everyone to get a little air where there was more space and accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry I hadn’t seen where I was going.” I flushed.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s too crowded for me to notice someone bump into me.” The girl laughed.

She wore copper-colored suede platform boots and a white fringed dress that enhanced her every little movement. Intricate beaded jewelry adorned her neck and ears, hidden away partially by her long, shining jet black hair. Her eyes were the color of dark amber when it was held up to the sunlight. I had no doubt she’d be invited back with one of them – she was absolutely breathtaking. At least if they didn’t invite her back, I certainly would attempt to.

“Who are you here for?” She asked.

“Well I’d be pretty happy no matter who it was, but I have a soft spot for Jimmy.” I confessed.

She gave me a teasing look before admitting her own fancy: “I’m stuck between him or Robert as a favorite.” 

We were both too enthralled with our conversation that the louder shouting of the crowd had gone unnoticed while the band made their way inside. In fact, we probably would’ve completely missed them if it wasn’t for the sound of a cleared throat and an amused voice to the side.

“Is that so? Perhaps I can aid with that decision.” 

Our heads turned and we instantly froze; speak of the devil, as they say. That man from the album covers and magazine photographs was really standing right there with a clever smirk on his pink lips. My new friend and I smiled in disbelief, waiting for him to elaborate on what kind of proposition that was. He leaned to one hip, his black waves shining in the chandelier light while he lit a cigarette.

“Well…” He blew out the smoke. “Would you like me to?”

She found herself at ease faster than I did as she answered, “Sure. Let’s see how well you can convince me, Mr. Page.” 

“I think I’ll require a little assistance from your friend here, if that’s alright.”

Her eyes flickered to me in question. I merely gave her a subtle nod and looked to the guitarist before us, who was somehow ignoring the cries of his name from the others. With our words of confirmation, he took us each by the hand and led us up to the band’s floor then off to his room. I felt like my chest had been zapped with electric shocks but simultaneously like I was floating in a dream. My only hope was that it didn’t show on the outside. 

The door was shut and locked behind us, our host kindly offering drinks from his room’s minibar while we followed him further inside. He invited us to sit at the spacious sofa as he carried a glass over for each of us and seated himself opposite us, his jade green eyes unflinching in their observation process. I sipped down the champagne slowly, letting myself savor a drink that was surely worth more than my whole record collection. 

“Do you both know each other?” Jimmy began, reclining against the back of the sofa.

I shook my head while my new friend answered him: “No, we just met in the lobby.”

“What are your names?”

“Y/N.”

“Summer.” 

How suitable, the girl who looks like she spent every day basking in the sun was called Summer.

He seemed pleased and placed the delicate half-empty glass onto a nearby table before continuing the inquisition: “You both aren’t opposed to… playing… with each other, right?”

“Not at all.” I immediately replied, hearing Summer echo my response and only making me more eager. 

His hands took the champagne glasses from our hands, placing them with his, and directing me to lay back against Summer with a wave of his finger. Her arms reached around me so she could reach the hem of my top then pull it up over my head while my shoes and jeans were tugged off by the guitarist on the opposite side. My eyes watched every detail of the scene: a starved glimmer to his eyes while one hand reached to push my thigh off to the side and the other dared to explore beneath the thin material of my panties, absolutely delighted at his findings.

“So nice and wet for me already, Y/N. I bet you taste sweet too.” 

My breaths turned frail and erratic at the warm contact of his tongue dragging over me, purposely going achingly slow so I couldn’t help but writhe against it. Summer held me into her frame, her hands massaging over my breasts and digging her fingertips into the flesh a little in correspondence with Jimmy’s exchanges of sucking at my bud between flicked licks from his tongue. I felt like I was falling apart even in this introductory foreplay, I wondered how much better the night could get if it was already feeling so selfishly good. 

He finally pulled away breathlessly when I was right on the precipice of crashing: “Just as I thought, love. Like fucking nectar.”

Summer pulled me back up into a seated position, drawing me closer with her hand on my cheek and deeply pressing her lips into mine. I leaned in towards her, my fingers gently brushing the hem of her dress higher up her thighs until she crept forward on her knees so I’d lie down beneath her. We had a moment to breathe while she removed her dress and beaded necklace, throwing them off to the side then promptly reconnecting our lips. Our bodies moved against one another, creating the best kind of tension and I was coming close again when Jimmy directed our attentions back to him. 

“As much as I’d love to watch you both go at it, I did say I’d persuade you into my favor and I intend to do just so.” He reminded us, mostly Summer, then pointed to the floor in front of where he was sitting. “Now both of you, down there.”

The guitarist lied back arrogantly like a spoiled prince with a stoic expectation written over his features. Summer climbed off me and kneeled down at his thighs, myself following suit but holding her hair back for her when she began to take him down her throat. Jimmy smacked her cheek lightly and pushed her down until her nose was nearly touching his low abdomen. Occasionally, his slapping hand reached around to smack my behind hard enough to leave a bruise and make my eyes prick with tears at the sting. I traced my lips and tongue along his inner thigh while Summer bobbed her head over his cock, earning some praise between his heavenly mewls. 

“You two make quite the fucking team.” He sighed, pulling Summer off by the fingers entangled in her hair. “Let’s see how well you girls do the rest of the night.”

Jimmy had become the grand ringmaster of our dynamic: directing us around and rearranging our positions per his wishes. Sometimes he would sit back and watch us, guiding our actions like we were on puppet strings attached to his fingers. Other times he grabbed me or Summer by the hair, back of the neck, leg, hip, anything then maneuvered us   
onto him or each other. Teasing was incessant under his command and we were both nearly trembling by the time he finally declared that we were ready for him. 

“Y/N! Come up here, doll.” He beckoned, patting his hand over the cushions in front of kneeling legs.

I mindlessly followed, knowing it’d be easier just to do as he said and if I continued the pattern, he’d reward me for it. Besides, the torture was still so pleasant and only made me anticipate the end of it even more. I lied with my bent knees near Jimmy’s thighs, facing up towards him only to have his hands grasp me and twist me around onto my stomach. His hands grasped at my ass and I tensed at the feeling, not having seen him reach towards me with my back facing him. With a sharp smack, he delved right into me and my moan was stifled by the cushion at my mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He praised while working up a smooth rhythm.

Our third party climbed up in front of me, as per Jimmy’s wishes, and his hand reached to push me by the back of my head, so my face was between her legs. I eagerly began to lap at her sweet wetness, pausing occasionally as a cry ripped through me from the guitarist’s roughening pace and occasional stinging smacks at my ass. His tip felt like it was prodding through my stomach in this flat, face-down position and my face rubbed against the sofa cushion with his pace. Summer’s hand pressed into the back of my head, trying to get my tongue closer and deeper. My body was burning up and my head was starting to feel hazy like just before fainting. Jimmy could apparently read my drastically slowing movements and leaned down to plant soothing kisses on my back while gradually pulling himself out of me.

“Oh my God, Ji- Jimmy…” My whimpering voice breathed out against Summer’s thigh.

“Such a good girl for us.” He said with a pat on the head. 

His hand lingered down to my cheek, pulling my face into his and kissing me hard with his tongue immediately diving between my lips. I could feel the hum of his low groan against my mouth and gasped at how good such a simple thing could feel. Jimmy disconnected us, wiping his bottom lip with the back of his hand and sitting back to comment how we tasted even better together.

“Now Summer, you come over here.” He gestured to his hips as he lied back down. “And you, Y/N, up here.” He gestured up at his face. 

A wave of heat rushed back up through me as I straddled his face with my thighs and his hands reached around to dig his fingers into the flesh of my thighs. I grabbed at the arm of the sofa to brace myself and leaned forward, nearly collapsing at the first lick he delivered to my core. The muscles holding me up had been electrocuted and turned as weak as a leaf in the wind, my breaths rushed as they racked through my lungs. I heard Summer’s sultry mewls and moans from behind me, evidently from Jimmy as well. He was simultaneously driving both of us to madness, especially with his hums of pleasure or hot breaths falling against my folds. I was nearly screaming at this point, trying to fight off the fire that threatened to overtake my whole being and leave me in ashes. But Jimmy was persistent in his actions and I couldn’t resist that build-up of release coming over me.

“Oh, Jimmy... I th- I think I’m gonna- ”

He hummed more vigorously against me and his mouth sucked at my bud, just to push me over the edge faster. Every muscle in my legs seemed to be trembling just as I reached that peak, finally relaxing into pulsating electricity when I gave in and released right onto Jimmy’s tongue. His hand guided my thighs together and directed my to lie down to catch my breath, a satisfied grin over his features. He gave me a chaste kiss as a reward, instantly pulling away when Summer rolled her hips around faster to chase after her own high and take the guitarist up there with her. 

They fell into a chorus of echoed cries, their skin slapping together and I felt roused again just by watching the scene. Sighs escaped their lips when they finally collapsed onto each other, gradually parting. Jimmy took a moment to collect himself and slid back up into a sitting position then stand up on his feet, taking both of us by the hand to an adjoining room for the rest of the night. We crashed in the fairly spacious bed together, limbs intertwined and our heated bodies radiating warmth onto each other despite our lack of dress. 

"Have we adequately coaxed you to the dark side?" Jimmy teased Summer.

"I think so, though I wouldn't mind a little more... persuasion." She hinted.


	87. let it loose (rolling stones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: no particular one, but fem!reader is a journalist on tour with the stones  
> Warnings: nsfw-ish and drug references

request: "Can I get a req? It’s definitely pretty long, but I think it’s an interesting idea. The reader is a well-known reporter/writer/music journalist for a newspaper who gets asked to write something on the ’72 Stones Tour. At first they’re a bit intimidated by her because she’s a smart, pretty, and self-confident woman; Mick J & Keith try to put her down, Charlie is indifferent, and Mick T is flat out uncomfortable. Likewise she wants as little to do with them as possible and thinks they’re boorish sexists. But despite the boys’ best attempts they’re all quickly charmed by her and try to win her over. You can choose the ending & amount of NSFW, but I do ask you let the reader not lose any of her autonomy. Anyways that was a long read I hope you don't mind 😅"

I really didn’t want to do this assignment, but it was going to do wonders for my writing career and I’d never be in want of work if this went well. It wasn’t that my career was in its fledgling state, not at all. I was pretty well-established in the field and this challenge would just prove that I could do any kind of projects for whatever magazine or journal wanted interviews from any people, even those that didn’t seem easy to work with. The Stones necessarily weren’t bad interviewees – provocative, yes – though I could tell they likely wouldn’t take me seriously the minute I’d show up, blowing me off as someone who just wanted to get close to the band for a chance to sleep with at least one of them.

My suspicion was instantly confirmed when I arrived in the backstage area while stage setup was still going on and the group had to wait out the next hour or so until the show began. The frontman took a glance with disapproval evident on his face with a cocky smile framing it as I continued approaching them. Lucky for me, they were already gathered together with various drinks and smoking materials in hand so I didn’t have to begin with corralling them.

The moment I opened my mouth to speak, the guitarist cut in: “Who the hell are you? I didn’t think they’d invited any of the little girls out back in here yet.”

“No, they haven’t.” I confirmed with a condescending smile. “I’m- ”

“C’mon Keith, she couldn’t be a groupie looking like that. It’s too prudish.” The singer teased.

The drummer rolled his eyes and gave me a half-hearted smile in reassurance. 

“I’m your tour journalist, I can ruin your reputations beyond your belief if you don’t at least attempt to be hospitable. Be nice, and you’ll get a formidable payback for it.” I elaborated in a steady tone, winning their attention for a moment. 

Then the two rowdy ones burst into peals of laughter, the second Mick chuckling along with them and still not daring to even glance at me. Bill looked a bit pensive but his lip quirked into a smile in concurrence with his mates.

“Honey, we’ve had drug trials and all sorts of horrible scandals thrown about and we still sell out shows. There’s no way you could do anything.” Jagger explained then perked up, “Well, I can actually think of one thing you can do for me…”

I honestly had no idea how I hadn’t slapped him right then. Sexists in the industry weren’t a rarity, sadly, but this was just intolerable. But I promised myself to just get on with it, finish this job, and never have to deal with this band of idiots, save for Charlie. At the very least, I’d have to ask each of them one question about their initial feelings towards the start of a new tour and note it down before they took the stage.

“Only if you do something for me first.” I played along with his game the way he wanted.

Mick smiled with arrogance, taking the bait like the fool I’d predicted him to be.

“Tell me, how would each of you explain your thoughts on this upcoming tour and the newest album?”

Despite their lack of professionalism towards me, they each echoed the ideas of it being “fucking great”, tiring, and exciting due to the dalliances permitted in the whirlwind environment of touring. I couldn’t get much more out of them and stepped away slightly, scribbling down notes about them while listening in to their resumed, regular conversation. There were a few good quotes I snuck into my notes this way and I stopped after filling a few pages with my handwriting. Their eyes occasionally drifted over to me, very obviously in evaluation of my physical appearance and about to make comments when they were called to the stage. 

“To be continued.” I remarked under my breath distastefully, following them from a distance to observe the show. 

Their performance was undeniably good, pity that their off-stage personas didn’t all match that adjective. I scribbled down brief notes as I observed, reminding myself to be generous in describing Mick’s jerky dancing for the article unless he chose to continue being a pompous ass. They were steady, flowing between songs with the ease of a ballerina flowing through movements while looking like the dictionary definition of popular rock stars. The adoring crowd was very responsive to them, reflecting that the singer must’ve been a good ringmaster to elicit these reactions from everyone with a simple twirl of his arms over his head or waggle of his hips back and forth.

But the radiance faded as they stepped off the stage, making demands for all sorts of things they could get by themselves and stalling their rides back to tonight’s hotel because they didn’t feel like it quite yet. I held back a remark or a roll of my eyes, this band was mostly made up of spoiled children with permits for all sorts of substances and activities. They didn’t think anyone could control them nor get in their way. I tried reasoning through why they might behave this way – exhaustion, careers taking a life of their own, pressure to maintain appearances, habits – but I hesitated to believe any of these explanations and use them to excuse it all. 

Finally, we were all driven off to the hotel and everyone gathered in the hotel bar. Dim lights illuminated the rich red velvet and shining gold décor around the room, other esteemed guests dressed in refined clothes turning their heads at the rowdier, flashier people of the entourage invading the ritzy scene. As much as I wanted to just go to up to my room and sleep, I perched myself at the bar stools to read over my notes and keep track of anything else of interest that might go down. My arm propped up my tired head while I reviewed what I’d written earlier – crossing things out, adding things in, reworking the phrases, deciphering my haphazard handwriting. 

“What are you doing?” 

I turned my head and instinctively closed my notes journal over my finger, my attention slowly shifting to the speaker. Surprisingly, the genuinely interested-sounding speaker was none other than the lanky guitarist who’d laughed at my expense only hours earlier.

“Writing notes because it’s my job. You didn’t think I was kidding, did you?” I retorted.

“No, but you’re really going to waste your night scribbling down words when you have the rest of the tour to do that?”

I gave him a wry smile, “I’m a very thorough writer, Mr. Richards.”

“Well I’ll help you along by telling you that you can’t trust what someone says when they’re high to get off a foul mood.”

“Is that an allusion to your frontman?” 

He nodded, “Smart girl.”

“Patronizing man.” I replied. 

He held his hands up in defense, “I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just… different to treat people so seriously on tours when the whole time the scene’s too chaotic to be taken seriously. And besides, most of our feminine company isn’t for, uh, professional activities.”

“I’m aware of that fact.” I assured him. “It just irks me to be treated that way because that’s not what I’m here for and a lot of people still refuse to take me seriously. I’ve had to work twice as hard for the same shit as any of the guys and get mistaken for an intern all the time, or I guess a groupie now too.”

“Sorry about that. I really didn’t mean it in that way.” He grimaced to himself. 

He swirled his drink around pensively for a moment then changed the subject to more casual things. We actually got along fairly well – I found him to be far more intellectual and technical about his craft than he let on in face value. Mick stole him away later on, offering me a fun time with him if I chose to come off the clock. I projected an exaggerated look of disgust on my face in reply, shifting my eyes back to my journal and heading to my room for some rest. 

The next few stops along the way continued the same way, each of the band members warming up to me more but still a bit hesitant. Charlie was already relatively at ease with me and just preferred not to participate as much in the non-show festivities. Bill was overall quiet but dabbled a little more in the party scene on occasion. The other three adored being in the throes of adoring crowds with all sorts of things available for their use, noise too loud to hear anyone speak and sweat comfortably beading over their bodies. Only in the wee hours of morning did they finally head up to their rooms with at least one lucky guest joining them.

Parties were wilder in the larger cities than in the humdrum small towns we sometimes spent the night at, and I hatched a plan for when we’d reach LA. Thus far, I’d kept up my very professional appearance and never actively participated in the festivities to simply view what they did in an outside view – like staring through a glass fishbowl. But I’d don a new persona the one day when I knew it would be impossible to be strictly professional from the theatrics of the musical circus called LA. Part of me was hoping that this would win over the Micks and surprise Keith, who’d become a lot more of a friend. 

I had gotten a few individual interviews already too. Charlie was easy to talk to, as was Keith, and Mick Taylor gave me very stereotypical answers. I figured I could get Bill in whenever and set my sights on the frontman. It couldn’t happen in LA and I wanted to get it done earlier rather than later, deciding to conduct it on the plane from some small southwestern city to California. He didn’t bring along a guest and easily got bored, so he’d have no choice but give me a bit of his time.

The singer had his head leaned up against the open window and smiled lazily when he saw me approaching him: “Have I finally won your attention?”

“No, but I do need an interview from you. If you’d like to move somewhere more private than out here with everyone else, that’s fine by me.”

“Private? I think I’ll take up that offer, never know what could happen in a particularly stimulating inquisition.” He reasoned, standing up from his seat and guiding me back to the one separate room in the back with a grip on my wrist. 

I sat down at the sofa, perfectly poised with my notebook and pen in hand while he very casually leaned back in his sitting position. My fingers flipped to the next fresh page, writing a heading for the Jagger solo interview and mentally preparing myself for the answers I predicted he was going to give me. Before I could even look back at the question I prepared, Mick interjected between puffs at his cigarette to cut the silence in the air.

“Y’know, you’re quite a pretty journalist. We’ve had a few others here and there, but you’re not the same as they are. You’re so cold and so focused on gathering data or whatever too, not trying to join in on anything. You should really let loose some time.” 

“Thanks for the unsolicited opinion, but I just might surprise you if you ever see me not in work-mode. But now isn’t one of those times so, Mr. Jagger, what’s your philosophy to creating new music?”

“Well, we use a lot of traditional blues songs and adjust them in some way. The more original songs still draw on blues elements and we add lyrics to go with it. Sometimes Keith just wants to try something with his part and then we write lyrics for it, put in some other instruments. In simple terms, we start with a music base with words coming afterwards, sometimes the other way around.”

“And is provocation done purposely?”

“Partially. It gets attention from people and sometimes it’s just the right way to phrase something.”

“Can you give me an example?”

He paused and I looked up, seeing a sly smile over his lips now.

“Would you like a physical demonstration for that?” He offered.

“I meant tell me a provocative line from a song you’ve written and its real-life inspiration, why it’s the most suitable way to describe a situation.”

He looked disappointed for a moment then did his best to verbally explain an instance where vulgarity was necessary for illustrating the circumstances. I almost wanted to chuckle at how lost Mick seemed when someone didn’t play around with his confident, cocky persona and shot straight to the point. The dynamic of the interview smoothed over a bit more, but it was clear that the singer was still a bit uncertain towards me. I must’ve perplexed him further when I concluded the questioning on a slightly cheekier note. 

“Last question: what’s your favorite part of touring? I can keep the answer a secret or thinly-veil it if you’d prefer.” 

He grinned, “We’re all about provocation, as you’ve noted, but I think you might not want to add in my answer to that. We’ll just let rumors abound and let people reason if they’re true or not.”

“Alright, then I’m all done with the interview unless you’ve got something else you want me to add.”

“You’ve been writing every minute – you’ll have a novel by the time you’re done whether or not I add anything now.” 

And with that, he exited the private room to rejoin his bandmates just as we landed in California. The whole entourage was ushered out of the plane and into various vehicles, everyone still sluggish from early wake-up to make sure we’d get to the show early. With eight hours to spare, we were carted off to the hotel with our luggage and given personal time. I was more than happy with this result as my plan was able to come to full fruition with ample time to complete a physical transformation for the show. 

My immediate instinct was to just collapse onto the bed and let my tense muscles relax for a while after sitting on the plane for so long. The crisp clean, fluffed duvet felt like a cloud on my cheek. A calm sensation was starting to pull my weary mind away from my plan so I quickly regrouped and whisked myself off to the bathroom with my transformation utensils in tow. I took a much-needed shower after splaying makeup, fresh clothes, hair styling tools, and jewelry over the bathroom counter. The mirror fogged up from the heat of the steamy water so I had to wipe it all off before getting started with my process. 

I started with the rollers, carefully sectioning off my hair and twisting it up neatly while it was still damp. Using my own fan rather than the hotel’s, I circled the heat around my hair until every muscle in my arms was sore and all of my hair had finally dried in tight ringlets once I finished unrolling each of them. I got started brushing through my hair and smoothing it over with my hand, the wild curls framing my face just as I wanted. A tight, glitzy little top replaced where my towel had been and I decided to forgo a bra, pairing it with a loose, slightly see-through skirt that draped the floor. It was comfortable yet felt suitable to my purpose, at least so I determined as I inspected myself in the mirror. 

Makeup, however, was a more delicate process that I began after setting my curls in place with a thin coating of hairspray. I painted up my face with a vibrant shade of eyeshadow and liberally brushed my curled lashes with mascara. A slight coating of lipstick finished off the makeup. By now the fog on the mirror cleared away entirely, so my hand reached for some jewelry to complete the ensemble. Peeking at a nearby clock while wrapping leather sandal straps up my calf, I was happy to notice that I had another half-hour before meeting everyone else.

I scanned over my notes to review everything I’d already written and think about how I’d try to describe whatever happened tonight. So far, I’d written very truthfully with lots of scenery depictions, quotes or anecdotes from the band, general traits of each band member, and dates of each stop. There were a few places where I drew in an asterisk as a reminder to potentially veil the truth of particular events I’d been present for. The journal would stay back in my luggage for tonight, so I’d have to stay relatively in control to take mental notes of everything. I checked the clock again and hopped off the foot of my bed, heading down to the lobby to meet the rest of the crew for the show. 

Most of the entourage had packed into the cars already and I was able to have one all to myself, as one of the roadies had taken ill tonight. The front cars sped off to the concert hall while the not-so-time-sensitive vehicles took off later and got caught in some of the traffic of the city. Once I finally got into the backstage area, the band was already at the stage wings and I could go now to watch from the sidelines. None of them showed how rushed they’d been to get here as bright lights fell over the stage and the crowd screamed louder than any other that I’d experienced on this tour. Flowers were being thrown at Mick and he’d dance around with their stems in his mouth, the lights catching the glittery parts of his stage costume perfectly. It truly was a theatre show gone mad, and not having to look down to write notes was proving to be helpful in not missing a single moment of it. 

The show went on for almost two hours before Mick bid everyone a goodnight and blew a kiss to the roaring audience, pivoting on his heels then coming off the stage. I noticed his eyes caught mine and I remembered that he was likely surprised at my change in appearance: from professional and practically bare faced to completely dolled up for the scene. But my assumption was evidently incorrect with Mick’s start to our conversation. 

He stopped maybe a foot away from me and gave me a grin, “How’d you like the show, love?”

“It was good.” I nodded.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, “You wanna come back and spend the night with us?”

I laughed lightly, “I’ll have to.”

Instead of correcting his misconception, I wanted to see how long it would take him to realize who I was. It only took Keith a few moments to figure it out and I had to hush him to keep the game going while the other three seemed to be as lost as their frontman. Everyone was rearranged back in the cars and carted back to the hotel before the crowd traffic could build up. I sat between Mick and Keith, biting back a grin while sharing knowing looks with the guitarist whenever the singer would ask me a question about myself.

“What’s your name?” He began after a few quiet minutes, his hand resting over my knee. 

“You already know it.”

He gave me a funny look but continued as he puffed at a cigarette: “Does that mean you’ve seen us before? You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not too good at remembering names.”

“You could say that.”

“You’re a tricky one; it’s fun messing with you.” He remarked as we pulled up to the hotel.

Mick placed his hand over my back and led me inside, up to where a party was in full swing. Drinks poured out endlessly, music pumped through the walls, the sea of dancing people filled almost every square foot of the floor, sequins shone when the gold lighting shone over them, the sharp smell of alcohol was mixed with strong perfumes, and I was pushed into its depths with Mick’s guiding hand. I was offered various substances and whisked off to dance. 

“Have you still not figured it out?” I asked as he spun me around. 

“Afraid not.” 

“According to you, I spend too much time doing my job with my nose in a journal.” 

Realization spread over his features, then turned into a smile.

“My, my, Y/N… finally took my advice.” He remarked, his eyes raking over my frame. “And I’m very glad you did.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, Mr. Jagger.”

He nodded in affirmation and took my hand, pulling me along to reveal his discovery to the rest of the band. They didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic as him, but still fairly surprised through their slight intoxication. But despite an external change, I was still hesitant to remain in this raucous atmosphere for too much longer – especially as it was decently past midnight. Mick made a few more rounds through the restless crowd, still pulling me along with him and making sure I was following. I continued with my tiring feet and weakening posture, my own weariness causing me not to notice that I was leaning my head onto the singer’s shoulder.

The noise seemed to hush and I raised my head, my widened eyes taking in my surroundings while we walked through the quieter lobby area up to the floor of our rooms. I looked to my guide confusedly but blindly kept walking after him, only taking pause when I noticed that the room he stopped at wasn’t mine. He drew me inside before I could ask where we were going, then my question answered itself. The spacious, sophisticated stylings inside and the mess of Mick’s clothes over the sofa brought me to the conclusion that this was his room. 

“Why are we in your room?” I questioned, stifling back a yawn.

“I can take you back to yours, if ya like, but I thought I’d cut to the chase.” 

“You just assumed I’d want to sleep with you?” I laughed incredulously.

“No, I saw that you didn’t like being in that crowd and didn’t want you to leave quite yet so the party can continue here but more privately. Besides, I wanted to apologize for anything I might’ve said before that offended you since I received a lecture from Professor Richards on that subject.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Alright… and a change in my physical appearance finally gave you the balls to do it?”

“Had to find the right words, Y/N. But I can’t deny that this new… appearance… is doing it for me.”

This man had quite a way to go if he was trying to win my favor enough to get me to stay the night. It was like a textbook cliché of someone dedicated to more professional aspirations remaking their physical appearance to suit flashy fads and Western, patriarchal ideas of beauty. Then all of a sudden, everyone wants to be their friend or sleep with them. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at him. Playing along and beating him at his own game, however, seemed to be the perfect alternative to it. 

“I think I have something that you’ll be even more pleased about.” I countered.

His typical, slightly smug, smile appeared at my response: “What could that possibly be?”

“That the new appearance has nothing beneath it.”

“I am even more pleased to hear that, baby.” He grinned. “Come here.”

It wasn’t hard to notice how constraining his pants now looked and I decided to take one more step before making my exit. I leaned forward towards him, propping my frame up with my arms and letting my eyelids sink seductively as I gazed at him with parted lips.

“What are you going to do, Mick?” I asked in a hushed tone. 

His hand raked through one side of my hair and pressed against my cheek.

“Might be easier to ask what I won’t do, honey.” 

I drew back slightly and answered that question myself: “The first thing you won’t be doing is fucking me in the first place.” 

And with that, I broke the trance. He remained in his same position in utter confusion while I strode right out of his room and turned to mine. Stripping off the façade of tonight, I collapsed right onto my bed feeling absolutely pleased with myself and the result of some clever thinking. Mick might not have gotten satisfaction, but I certainly had and that thought alone made me fall asleep with a victorious smile on my face.


	88. ballerina pt.2 (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's a ballerina  
> Warnings: eating disorders & hints at drug use

request: "hi! do u think u could do a continuation of the ballerina fic w jimmy? it's one of my faves!!" 

As Jimmy lie sleeping with documents scattered over the nearby table, Y/N sat awake beside him in thought. Their first and second meetings were completely incidental, the third was a complete accident. Each time between they separated for at least a year, yet they still somehow managed to keep crossing paths with a familiarity as if they hadn’t separated at all. They met more in his element with a theatrical show of a party and rowdy people dancing through it. Then he found her in her element on the stage, looking light as a feather while her body maintained rigid poise in her delicate costuming. But the third was what led them to become inseparable. 

She was upset, holding back tears as she carelessly marched through the streets with her ballet gear in tow and loose clothes over her leotard. In her industry, age was a fickle thing and she had to work three times harder now than she had five years prior. With so little time to rest during rehearsals and the overwhelming exhaustion after them, Y/N found her daily routine to consist solely of ballet then sleep with nothing but brutal dedication fueling her. On any days off, practicing in front of a mirror and nitpicking every tiny mistake was her schedule. It was starting to catch up with her and she’d drawn inwards so much that she really had nothing else to turn to. All these realizations were running through her head like sharp arrows piercing through whatever was left of her decent mood that day. 

Jimmy was in a temperamental state as he walked out of the office building. As if he didn’t damn well know all the things he was doing and that he was starting to struggle with all of it. His grand vision for his musical work was withering away and most of the blame was being shifted onto him. The extra pressure only made him want to get out of it as often as he could, turning away from the people he used to rely on and trying not to cause more problems than he already had. Everyone else had their own battles to fight too; he didn’t really know how to rightly make up for his behavior while also trying to help them out and seek help for himself. It was a complicated dilemma that didn’t look like it had a correct answer and it weighed heavily on his chest. 

Two people completely lost in their own worlds of anguish while they walked down the same streets, assisted by a dash of coincidence, were bound to collide. They were both ready to mentally curse themselves out for being so foolish and profusely apologize to the other party, but then they froze in recognition of each other. It was a relief, yet another addition to their stresses. Still being practically strangers, it wouldn’t have been right to just let the floodgates open if they decided to catch up on each other’s lives over the past three years since they’d seen each other. 

“Y/N?”

“Hi Jimmy, it’s been a while.”

“Terribly sorry for running into you, I’ve ju- ”

“No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She assured. 

He gave her a small smile as they took a moment to silently observe each other. They’d grown to look more weary and slighter under the loosely fitting clothing they wore. But their beauty and wonder remained glowing through the veil of burning the candle at both ends – the circles under their eyes, overall glum expressions, gaunt features, and guises of normalcy trying to cover it up. Each of them acknowledged the fact in their minds empathetically and pained that the other was struggling just the same way.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” The guitarist bashfully requested. “I haven’t been seei- I mean, well… I’d like to walk a while.” 

“Sure.” She nodded as their fingers intertwined and they turned down the street. 

But Jimmy didn’t simply walk off upon their arrival – he came up with Y/N and they slowly warmed up to each other again over tea. Neither wanted to inquire about the concerns in their minds, so they strayed to safer topics and gave tip-toed answers about themselves. As he spoke on and on about places he’d seen in the previous tour, Y/N slowly drifted off to sleep with her head resting over the back of her sofa. Jimmy wanted to leave her be, not overstay his welcome, but he realized he didn’t have a key to lock the door behind him and he didn’t want to disturb his exhausted hostess. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything timely to do tomorrow. 

She woke up late the next morning, jumping up from where she’d fallen asleep and startled that her legs had been entwined with… Jimmy’s? That’s right, they ran into each other on the street and he came home with her. Her sudden movements, unfortunately, roused the guitarist. He rubbed his eyes, sitting back up with a slight stiffness in his body, and saw a wide-eyed Y/N in the silver light of the cloudy morning. The sweater she’d been wearing last night was in her arms, clutched close to her stomach. But Jimmy saw the change in her appearance nonetheless, her wonderfully healthy shape from before now grown so thin that he could see the outlines of her bones through the tight leotard. Y/N caught the familiar change in his eyes, the sorrowful judgement and pity evident. 

“Y/N- ”

“Jimmy please don’t say anything, I’m terribly late to rehearsals already and I really just need to go.” 

“Stay home. You’re allowed to take a sick leave.” Jimmy argued. “Please, Y/N.”

She grew irritated, “I can’t skip rehearsals when I’m… I have to stay on top of choreography and all, I can’t just miss a day. I’m going.”

“No, you aren’t.” He reaffirmed.

Tears pricked her eyes; she didn’t even know why this was upsetting her so much, but she didn’t want to fight with him. Her resolve snapped. Maybe if she gave in with this, he wouldn’t bother her about anything else he might notice. Y/N telephoned the studio to alert them of her absence, excusing herself from Jimmy to change into new clothes and freshen up a bit more since she’d be staying home. Playing the role of hostess, she found herself in the sparse kitchen offering whatever drinks or refreshments she had available to her esteemed guest. 

“You should have some breakfast, Y/N.” Jimmy encouraged from behind a mug of coffee. 

“You’re one to talk.” She half-joked. “Coffee doesn’t count. Besides, it’s a bit late for breakfast and I’m not hungry either.” 

“If you say so…” He muttered quietly, not wanting to overstep into her privacy.

Despite taking a “day off” Y/N still practiced in front of the mirror, a relentless habit of hers, while her guest stole a few glances at her curving form smoothly shifting between impossible movements and postures. It was beautiful, seeing a person create art with their physical form with so much grace and strength. But there was a bitterness in her practice. She would stop in the middle of weaving her magic, a frustrated curve in her brows and a harsh look in her eyes to correct an unnoticed fumble. There was a militant harshness that ruled her nature – not something at all unfamiliar to the perfectionist guitarist. 

By some miracle, they each indulged in a small shared meal in the evening before Jimmy left. He promised to return her hospitality any time she wished and insisted that she took care of herself. Y/N reciprocated the latter part of his declaration and whisked herself off to the shower. Her guilt at being absent from rehearsals was luckily pushed out of her mind at the surprising comfort of having seen Jimmy again and at how much she didn’t realize she missed him. 

Visits with him grew more frequent, Y/N hesitantly accepting his invitations and arriving at his elaborate Tower House doorstep after rehearsals. She was amazed by how someone could actually purchase such a historic, priceless piece of architecture and live in it. He delighted in the normalcy of her small flat that looked out at other buildings and a plain old street below. They seemed to slowly be getting better from their habitual vices, watching over each other as concerned friends with some understanding of how the other felt. Any urging from one resulted in compromised agreements with the other. 

Jimmy would discuss all his art, only as long as Y/N would sit down and relax with something to eat while he lectured. He looked so impassioned talking about his time back at art school or what he learned since then, all information that Y/N was enthralled to listen to. Then, under the pretext of her congenial company and stories of her profession, Y/N would get Jimmy a bit more out of his shell as well as keep him from needlessly throwing himself in his work. But two sinking ships couldn’t save each other from drowning. At least, not without having any confrontation or set method about it. 

It was a quiet Saturday – no performances, no rehearsals, no studio bookings, no meetings, no other obligations. Jimmy and Y/N had taken a walk just before the heavy clouds overhead began to drizzle, forcing them to quickly run back to Tower House. Tea, blankets, and the fireplace warmed them up. Y/N sat at the window and observed the garden, the pale overcast light only making the sharpness of her face as well as the weariness around her eyes more evident. Three months passed and she still looked just the same as before. And it finally struck Jimmy’s tolerance of her harm to herself.

“Y/N, I want to help you.” 

She gave him a funny look, “With what?”

“You’re playing with your health and your life. I don’t mean to intrude but let me help you, goddammit.”

“I’m not doing anything unusual and I’m fine. If I can make it through eight or ten-hour rehearsals this long the way I have, then it can’t be that bad.” She crossed her arms harshly with wrath shining in her eyes.

“But you can’t go on like that forever!”

“I know, but you’re not one to preach about fixing habits when you- you’re worse than I am, in a way.” She dodged. 

His own anger flared up in his chest, but he pacified himself, prioritizing a win with her over his own potential satisfaction of winning an argument.

“I’m not perfect and I know it. All I want to do is try to help you and I’ll try to get better too; I won’t be unfair.” 

“And how do you plan to do that? You’re not a doctor and neither am I. I can’t hold myself to shit even if I know I’m doing something wrong and I’ll guess that you’re just the same.”

She had a point. He sighed bitterly and looked to her, “How about you stay here for a while? It’s not far from your theatre and that way we can keep eyes on each other. No shirking or unfairness.”

Y/N still wanted to firmly grasp onto that level of control she’d reached and didn’t think she could let go, yet she knew that she couldn’t keep going this way. Her hair was thinning out, her flimsy nails chipped constantly, she felt like a shell of herself most of the time from how unrested she was, her temper was unpredictable, and she was pressed about doing her absolute best in the theatre above everything. It felt ridiculous that something so vital to life and simple as food sent her nerves into turmoil.   
She was pained at Jimmy’s state too, knowing that he felt just the same but even more miserable with the far higher stakes that he faced. He seemed so fragile in his state now, still just as magnetic of a force but not as confident nor sure of himself. Fear and control ruled him the same way they did her. When he already had so many things to worry about and with a reach around the entire globe, this mounting challenge on top of all that seemed cruel. She rose from her seat and placed a cool hand to his face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead in silent gratitude.

They kept their accord and outlined specific demands from each other for the week, usually tentatively but firmly enough to get the other to agree. It was a rigorous challenge that pitted them against their own minds. The first few weeks were the worst. Y/N must’ve broken down into tears every other day and nearly thrown a plate into the wall. Jimmy came close to locking himself in his room, away from Y/N’s supervision, and cursed himself for this idea. But they made it through that daunting beginning. The end of the month, however, ended in relapses and guilt.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I really don’t even- ”

“It’s just one mistake, and it’s not like I didn’t spent the whole day working off anything I ate. We both slipped off the curve and we’ll have to do better now.” She reassured, leaning her head into his shoulder.

That night was spent quietly in the room containing Jimmy’s massive record collection. Candles glowed through the extinguishing evening light outside the windows with the guitarist sitting quietly in thought while Y/N mentally marked choreography, Joni Mitchell’s melodies surprisingly suitable to the rhythms of her small hand motions. Jimmy watched her proceedings: her hands gracefully waving through the air like they were weaving constellations, her eyelids gently shut, her head swaying along with her mental rhythm, and her eyebrows raised in focus. He couldn’t help himself as he stood before Y/N and took one of her hands, asking her to accept his mediocre dancing skills in partnership to her prowess while River played. 

“I’m not a ballroom dancer, Jimmy.” She pointed out, accepting his hand with the genuine smile he hadn’t seen from her in a while.

Their arms wrapped around each other’s forms unapologetically, pressing through the bagginess of their clothes and thoughtlessly moving their feet across the rug. Y/N rested her head against his shoulder and inhaled the scent she still couldn’t get enough of, even living in its owner’s home. She didn’t want to part from Jimmy again, too thankful of his kindness for words, nor did she enjoy seeing him in such distress. His hands grasped at her frame, wanting to somehow express the sentiment he possessed for her and how badly he wished she would recover. If only there was a way to get rid of it all, they thought to themselves aligned with the bittersweetly beautiful song. 

Evidently, they did something right for Y/N’s reality to be spending the evening with a resting and healthy Jimmy beside her after a day of choreographing for younger ballerinas, having regained her strength but learned her lesson. She watched for the others under her wings, warning them lovingly to care for themselves and not risk their health clutching onto the foolish hope that it would somehow work to their benefit. Jimmy helped remind her to do the same once she returned from the theatre. His creativity blossomed once more, working on all sorts of projects and reaching out to people about them without running the well dry. The recovery for both of them had been hell, but it was well worth the ending. They saved each other.


	89. sunrise (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: ace!John Paul Jones x reader  
> Warnings: none
> 
> I'm not sure if this lines up with what you had in mind but feel free to make another request if it doesn't! thank you so much :)

request: "hi!! this might be a bit unusual for you lol but do you think you could write a piece about asexual!jonesy ?? i honestly don't care if it's x reader or slash or whatever u wanna make it i just really want to see it happen :) also i mostly read on ur ao3 page so if it's not too much trouble could you maybe post it on there 🥺 thank u so so much" 

While his friends would just be falling asleep to the first cracks of light on the horizon, he woke up somewhat refreshed out of the haziness of the previous night. He and Y/N would sit together out on the balcony, wrapped up in blankets or robes against the cold, watching the sunlight slowly dawn over the lightening sky. It was hopeful – after the darkness and weight of the previous day came the brightness of a fresh, new day – besides, the sight was impossible to look away from.

The early hours felt inspiring too. Just as whatever city they were in began to wake up, everything seemed to quietly liven. It was too early for the loud noise of troublemaking or the libations that the nightly darkness allowed for. Murky greyness would become streaked with bright orange, cheery yellow, and peachy pink while the sun rose up into its place overhead. They would remain curled together in shared body heat and observe the gradual, beautiful sight – their favorite time of day only due to this tradition that began accidentally when Y/N couldn’t sleep one night then woke John to show him the painted sky over a muffled city. 

Sometimes there were hints of dark storm clouds in the distance, hinting at the rest of the day’s weather. Other times, rain pattered down to the matching grey streets below while the pale sunlight shone through thick rainclouds. In warmer climates, the sun would almost be completely out when they woke, granting them more light to observe the city below in its waking. It never looked quite the same – the exact shades of the sky, the liquid bronze of the rising sun, the light and shade it reflected onto skyscrapers or cars. It was better than the sunsets, when everyone was still rushing about too much to truly stand back and observe it.

But what they loved most about this ritual was the feeling of clutching closely into each other’s frames, giving their minds time to shake off the sleepiness of the morning, and seeing the light glow over the other’s dozy features. Y/N’s head would lie against his shoulder and their arms looped around his back, his lips gently brushing over their forehead as their warmth faded in the coolness of dawn out on the balcony. Breakfast would follow, then a quiet conversation, slowly getting dressed for the day, and take on the day’s schedule with a bit more energy compared to the unrested others. 

Today they greeted the Parisian morning, looking out at the dark silhouette of the Eiffel Tower and beautiful architecture against the rosy sky. The Tuileries was off to the other side, spotted with white stone sculptures posing amidst manicured hedges and the grand Louvre fencing in the area. Flowers sprouted in window boxes of the surrounding buildings and black iron spoked up around roofs or fenced in private properties. Elegantly decorated tables lined the wide sidewalks near cafes, all empty as it was too early for them to be open. Y/N breathed in the scent of fresh baked goods while John embraced their frame like the blanket that’d been foolishly left on the bed.

“I see why people like it here so much.” Y/N remarked in a hushed voice.

“So do I. It’s nice on its own without all the expectations from stories or films weighing on it.”

“I wish we could go to the museums.”

“We will. We’ll have to sneak through the backdoor the minute they open so Peter can’t catch us.”

“You’d risk his wrath?” Y/N said with the quirk of a brow.

“For you, sure. Besides, I’d like to see the museums too – beats hearing all the noise of the others’ guests deciding to take advantage of the ‘City of Love’ title as often as possible.”

“Seems a whole lot more like lust than anything else.”

“Very true, my love.”

He kissed the crown of their head, watching the sun climb higher over the historic buildings and slowly guide the two of them back inside for some room serviced breakfast. Museums were most certainly going to be visited today and Peter would have a fit because they most certainly were going to return at the last minute. They flipped through all the little, colorful brochures the hotel left for them over the foot of the bed, figuring a plan between all the places they could manage to see before John had to go perform. John was nonchalant and happy at the opportunity to explore but Y/N was over the moon as they plotted everything with the utmost care, the coffee a blessing during the process.

“So… if we start with the Louvre area and gardens, we can see the Champs Elysees after that and get lunch somewhere nearby. Maybe the Orsay or Orangerie later… or would you rather see something else?” Y/N looked up at him with luminous, excited eyes.

“Whatever you’d like, love.” He chuckled quietly at the enthusiasm. “I’ll just take along a watch to make sure we don’t stay out too long.”

The new energy got them up with a skip in their steps, dressing in comfortable clothes to be tourists in and brushing their teeth just before running out the door. They walked hand-in-hand through the hallway, soft-stepping over the carpet so as not to alert anyone while they snuck out. A camera hung strapped over John’s neck to capture the events of the day while Y/N clutched the folded maps in their hands for navigation, and they were off.


	90. something in the way (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '79!jimmy page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: drug references & fairly angsty

request: "‘Set in 1979, Scotland (they live at Boleskine house). The reader, in long term relationship with Jimmy, have son (4) & daughter (1). Reader can’t deny its been harder than usual lately raising the two, with very little help from Jimmy. (who is spiraling with drink, drugs e.g) she finds out she is expecting the 3rd. Jimmy had everything arranged to take her and the kids with the band to record the next album but she’s been really, really anxious about everything since she got news of the pregnancy and doesn’t know what she wants.’ Hi love, I know you’re extremely busy with fics but I just adore your writing and have always fantasied this one, so thought I would grow a pair and ask :)"

Everything inside me was shattering. I couldn’t – no, wouldn’t – leave, neither this house nor the central cause of my distress. Tears welled behind my eyes but didn’t dare to fall. My breaths felt faint and shaky but I couldn’t cry out. Instead I stood there with a sore heart, twisted stomach, electrified nerves, and excruciating headache. It hurt to look at him and think about how he got to this point, how I stood by and let it happen because he wasn’t home, how I let it get to this point before finally snapping. If it were anyone else in the world, I would’ve been gone by now. 

The children had been put to bed and I finally mustered up the courage to confront this, I couldn’t delay any longer. My only hope was that he was in his mind enough to take this seriously. He lied back on the sofa in his fragility and ill-fitting clothes. Even his face looked different now, marked by the poison that flowed through his bloodstream. The yellow light of a nearby lamp only worsened the effect. A tremor ran through me, but I didn’t let myself back down. He gave me a sleepy glance as I stood directly in front of him and commanded his attention with a quiet, yet somehow steady, voice.

“I have to tell you something important, please listen to me.” 

“You found out about the little holiday next week?”

I knitted my brows, “No… what are you talking about?”

He gave me a crookedly toothy grin, “I was going to take everyone along with me to the recordings we’re doing next week.”

The absolute nerve of such a foolish idea! I didn’t understand where he got the audacity to propose such things when the smallest inkling of reasoning would make it seem absolutely illogical. Perhaps it was his lack of experience around the house with his own small children that made him ignore the obvious costs of pursuing such a thing. Tiny children racing around expensive instruments and equipment with loud noises, cramped spaces, as well as not many entertaining things for them to do only spelled trouble.

But I contained myself: “Jimmy, I don’t think- ”

“What? You’d rather stay here like you’re under house arrest or something?”

“No, it’s not suitable for a toddler and a baby to be hanging around studios with delicate equipment. I’m not sure if you’re ready for that either. I mean, you just came home from touring just over a month ago.”

He looked at me in disbelief, his mouth agape and about to speak when I continued.

“And I can’t just sit here while you go off to do whatever you want. Not with three, very young, kids.”

“You mean two.” He corrected suspiciously.

Slip of the tongue and I was in trouble. Even submerged in whatever state of mind he was in, his attention to detail was razor sharp. I wanted to figure out one big thing at a time, either the surprise from me or my plea that he stay at home with us. Unfortunately, my poor luck was forcing everything out at once – cracking open the dam and letting it all flood the night. I’d have to tell him sooner or later anyways.

“For now, yes. But I went to the doctor and…” My voice trailed off.

He nodded in understanding but without a reaction. One weight had been lifted from my back and I breathed a little easier, waiting for anything he’d say before I tried throwing anything else into the conversation. His eyes looked at me with a dozy haze over them, weariness over every part of his face. I pitied him, honestly, I did. He had to carry his own cross and cope however he could figure, but it didn’t excuse everything nor invalidate how I had to deal with all this alone.

“What are you going to do?” He asked.

“I don’t know. It’s not like it wouldn’t be cared for but I don’t know how much I can handle. If I’m being completely truthful with you, I feel like I’ve been doing all this alone. You’re gone so much or not feeling well enough to ‘be around’ for them. I understand that you have a lot to deal with and I want to help you in any way, but please help me. Taking a rest could be a good thing for you. Creatively and… otherwise.” 

Flames burned in the jade of his eyes. I could tell that behind his pursed lips he was gritting his teeth at my comment. It’s not like I couldn’t tell or didn’t see what was going on, and I just wanted to see him get better. Have him be the same way as before only wiser from experience. He was a born fighter, someone who always sought the best out of themselves and wouldn’t stop until they reached it. Only I wasn’t sure how to redirect that tendency to something else, like his wellbeing.

“Jimmy, please say something.”

He crossed his arms and coldly replied: “I can’t believe you aren’t satisfied. How else would you live in a place like this and have whatever you wanted? You get to stay home, travel sometimes, not have to work… I’m the only way all of that is possible.”

“I know you work hard, I never said you didn’t, and I’m thankful that you do so much. But you can’t just keep at it tirelessly nor expect me to silently sit here with tw- three kids. Ours, not just mine. I’m far from opposed to working to maintain a livelihood, but I wouldn’t have the time for it if I tried now. Something has to give.”

“So, this isn’t enough for you?”

“No, it’s too much. It might not be paid work, but I don’t really rest that much either and you add to it sometimes rather than help. I just want you to stay for a while and… recuperate, for lack of a better word.”

I knew I was poking a bear with that allusion, but I was doing the best I could being honest and still holding back harshness, fair or not. Jimmy had fallen silent with a scowl and his eyes purposely aimed away from me. He stood up to go straight to the kitchen, pulling out a glass for himself and pouring something in hopes of making this easier for him. I pulled the bottle away after he filled it halfway, finally earning a portion of his attention again even if it was furious and wrathful.

“Give that back.”

“No, not until we sort through this.”

“There’s nothing to sort through. You’re overreacting, hormones and such.”

How I managed not to slap him then was a miracle. 

“These are all things that I’ve been carrying in the back of my mind for months on end, not a recent whim just to frustrate you. I’m serious.” I stated through gritted teeth.

“What do you want me to do?! Quit working entirely? Sit here all day?”

“I didn’t say that either. You can take a break without quitting entirely and we can go do things together if you don’t want to sit at home. Don’t you remember walking down to the lake or taking nice drives in the evenings or just playing around with your ever-growing collection of guitars?”

That hit a nerve with him: my fond memories of the near past and the apparently rose-colored view that all those things could happen again now. He noticeably grimaced, maybe from the prospect of leaving behind the raucous world he weaved for himself. Or maybe thinking that he had to be tied down and regretting ever creating the situation of stereotypical normalcy. I wanted to keep myself contained and hold up a façade of collectedness, but this was the last little inflection I was willing to tolerate. 

“What? What’s wrong now?” I inquired, the volume of my voice starting to rise.

“Haven’t you seen how things have changed? Even if I want to, I can’t just stop! Anything I do, people say it isn’t good enough and I have to do more. They point fingers at me about things I can’t control anymore and say I’m doing it on purpose. If I can’t play a damn line properly and fast enough in recording sessions with people who aren’t totally there either, how am I supposed to come back here and not make you upset? It’s harder to face you when I fuck up than anyone else. ‘Cause you won’t just leave and I know it.”

His gaunt cheeks glistened with tear tracks. His voice broke apart. His head was hung in shame. His hands seemed to tremble as they clutched together. I realized why he grimaced and felt stupid for jumping to conclusions. Then again, my pushing had led to this confession so now I understood this whole dynamic far better. Jimmy was calling for help after spending so much time being too scared or disappointed in himself to do it earlier, and he was damn right that I wouldn’t just disappear. I put the bottle further off and wrapped my arms around him; tears began to soak through my shirt while he slowly held me closer too. We agreed right then for him to take a rest, focus on getting into a better state of mind, and stick around home. I agreed to help in any way that I could so long as he kept up his promises. He stayed quiet but there was a soft smile on his face when he fell asleep that weary night.


	91. autumn leaves (john paul jones x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: john paul jones x reader  
> Warnings: none

request: "happy thanksgiving! i wanna say how thankful i am for your writing, you’re sooo talented!! could you do some jonesy autumn fluff? he reminds me so much of the fall, getting cozy with him by the fireplace & going to bed with him <3 thank you!"

We’d spent the afternoon cluelessly roaming the woods surrounding the house, crisp air chilling our skin slightly through our sweaters as our feet made the leaves crunch beneath them. The trees around us were painted with bright splotches of orange, yellow, and red that brightened up the greyness of the sky. It smelled like dew mixed with the beginnings of nature’s decay – something that could only truly be described the signature scent of the season. John blended in with the scenery perfectly with his contrasting blue eyes and fox fur brown hair, a hint of a smile over his pink lips as we walked side-by-side through the trees. 

He held my hand in his warm one, swinging it forwards and back with our strides. I listened to him talk about cities he wished he could’ve taken me to from the previous tour and asked him about new material, sending him into a passionate monologue on all the new instrumentation he was going to experiment with for a few songs. His face began to glow in the most beautiful way whenever he discussed something he was so invested in, including creativity in compositions. John seemed to notice my gaze when he wrapped up and cleared his throat, a pink tint appearing over his wind-brushed cheeks. 

“Look, there’s a deer over there!” He whispered in my ear, drawing my frame before his and pointing off into the distance.

I narrowed my eyes, searching for the animal amidst the thin branches with no luck.

“I don’t see i- ”

His hands flipped me around by the shoulders gently, my back leaning against the trunk of a towering tree and I opened my mouth to protest only to have his lips shush me. It was slow and flooded my whole body with warmth, his free hand reaching up to caress my cheek. I wrapped my free arm around his torso so I could feel all of him against me. He tasted like honey from the tea he’d drunk with his breakfast that morning as his tongue slipped between my lips. My hand instead combed through his silky hair by the nape of his neck and tugged gently. His soft breaths and rustling of leaves were the only sounds in our peaceful setting. 

But we were disturbed by a trembling in the sky – rain and thunder were on their way – we’d have to race back inside. The wet droplets had struck our hair and faces as we made it those last few feet, then a crack of thunder boomed from a distance away when we were safely in the house again. John shrugged off his jacket and took mine from me to hang back into the coat closet, taking my hand again to pull me along to his secret plans. He released me in the kitchen and asked for some tea, then to come join him in the living room. I smiled while adhering to his whim and brought two steaming mugs over to where he was seated at the shining piano.

Large windows lined the walls with raindrops racing down them and the hidden sunlight illuminating the room dimly. He’d set the fireplace to glow with its yellow-orange flames and warm us from the cool air outside. I sat down at the nearby armchair after carefully placing his mug over the piano, as John directed, and shut my eyes lightly while he began to play for me. My ear could now recognize the almost all the pieces he would shuffle through playing. This time, he began with the subtle Tristesse by Chopin then flowed into the gently dramatic Elegy from Rachmaninoff’s Morceaux de fantaisie and the bittersweetly striking Lark romanze by Glinka, ending off with the illustrative September piece by Fanny Mendelssohn. I only ever opened my eyes to watch his fingers fly over the keys with the speed and grace of hummingbird’s wings. 

John poured magic from his fingers into the notes he was playing, soaking into my very soul as the music swelled and hushed by the tiny flares of his fingers. His head swayed along to the music like it was consuming him entirely in the process, his movements mirroring that of the flames flickering in the fireplace. It was a stationary dance that I couldn’t look away from. He played the last note of his repertoire list, slowly retracted his hand and turned to me with a soft, yet wearied smile as though his music-making had drained most of his energy. I reached my hand out to his and pulled him to me.

“You always play so beautifully, John.” I commented as his head curled into my shoulder and I brushed my fingers through his hair with my other arm over his frame.

“Thank you, I’m amazed you don’t fall asleep by the end of it.”

“Of course not, I like watching your fingers and how it flows through the rest of you. It’s obvious that you enjoy doing it, and I wish you’d keep going. Unless, of course, you’re tired.”

“You write a list of every piece you like, and I’ll spend a whole day playing all of them for you.” He promised. 

We watched the rain continue to fall as cracks of thunder boomed above our heads with mugs of lukewarm tea beside us and our arms wrapped around each other. Warmth permeated the room from the still-flickering fireplace and the blanket around our legs. The sky was a misty grey that darkened with the late afternoon hour, such a sleepy hue that our subdued moods soon calmed even more, and we fell asleep together on the sofa.


	92. in the pale moonlight (jimmy page x fem!reader) - collab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader where Jimmy gets turned into a demon  
> Warnings: nsfw
> 
> collab with @/nature-and-music on tumblr

Chapter 1 - Summoning

The stadium rumbled as the roaring crowds cheered, the last song soon transitioning to another one of their big hits. The raucous rhythms of the instruments and vocals created such a distinct set of vibrations throughout the venue; like always it was another successful night for Led Zeppelin. Each one of them were able to captivate the crowd by their own means of performing, from quick gestures, melodic movements, and captivating tones which garnered the attention of all who attended tonight. While the fans were in their own state of heaven, the crew were well used to this kind of scene. 

Long before the band would arrive, everything from the technical aspects, such as lighting and sound production, were constantly tested and worked on to ensure a fantastic visual show as well. Clothing, hair, and makeup artists stayed close to the band mates throughout much of the tour; making sure that they looked their best for each event. Drivers of limos, buses, and the Starship kept themselves ready for arrival and departure. Security was always on the lookout to keep them safe, no matter the cost. Finally, then there were the photographers whose faces were shielded by their devices to document these historical moments; well historical to us that is. I’ve had my fair share of being a part of the rock and roll scene, having done photoshoots with various bands; some before they were famous and others once they reached the proverbial top. 

One of those bands was The Yardbirds, actually. While the shoots were for a brief period, I had enjoyed the time that I spent with the band; they were an interesting bunch of young men and I had high hopes for them to succeed. I was sad to no longer witness them create future records, but I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to photograph Led Zeppelin. Jimmy and I had stayed in contact while he was working as a session guitarist at the time, and taking pictures of him was always a pleasure. He had mentioned that he loved the way I took photos of him: he always appeared so ethereal after developing the shots, but perhaps that was just my way of doing things. 

The band’s entourage began gathering and sorting out their rides back to tonight’s hotel, luckily in a smaller city where there wouldn’t be a massive sea of admirers waiting for them. I was pulled along into a limo with Jimmy and Robert, then dragged into their post-show games in the 7th floor hallway, half-empty bottles of beer spotting the floor between where we’d seated ourselves. After a bland game of Truth or Dare was met with much protest, Jimmy offered his own idea: playing an old parlor game with his spirit board. No one seemed to really believe in the magical qualities of the board and shrugged their shoulders at his suggestion.

Only one candle would have to suffice for the proceedings since the carpeted hallway was hazardous for even one. We all sat around the board together, our fingers gently placed over the planchette and following Jimmy’s directions as he led the séance. Surprisingly, everyone was completely silent aside from the guitarist’s steady, riddle-like words. The planchette began to slide across the surface of the board a few moments after Jimmy finished his spiel. Jonesy observed quietly from a distance while Bonzo scoffed, reflecting my sentiments of disbelief that it was moving on its own. Jimmy was probably moving it with his fingers as the planchette moved over the “hello” marking.

“Quit movin’ the thing around, Page.” The drummer barked.

“I’m not.” He declared sharply then acknowledged the spirit: “Do you intend harm unto us?”

The planchette moved over the “no” marking. 

“That’s a relief.” I muttered under my breath.

“You all can ask questions too, that’s part of the fun.” Jimmy remarked.

Robert piped up after clearing his throat, mocking his bandmate’s speech: “Dost thou wish to bestow gifts upon- unto! Unto, us?” 

It remained on the “no” while the rest of us gave Robert an incredulous look at his antiquated phrasing.

One of the roadies went next, just to test if this thing was real: “What color is the shirt at the bottom of my suitcase?”

In unison, we all read out the letters that the planchette paused over: “B…L…U…E. Blue.”

He raised his brows in surprise and remained silent for the rest of the “game”. Jimmy’s questions were more ominous while Bonzo’s were sarcastic and Robert was cautious. I refused to use my turn, merely participating with my fingers on the planchette despite all of Jimmy’s encouragements. But our game only lasted about twenty minutes until the others grew tired of it.

The drummer interrupted right as I began to ask my first, and last, question.

“Well, as fun as your tricks are, Pagey, I’m gonna go find the phone in my room.” Bonzo got up, taking his fingers off and Robert following suit.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” The guitarist warned, turning his head towards them.

“What do we do now?” I asked him.

Whatever spirit was communicating with us answered me instead, hastily shifting over the “goodbye” mark as the candle’s flame blew out suddenly. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he looked up to me with uncertainty. He pushed my fingers off the planchette and put away his spiritual paraphernalia, assuring me that everything should be fine. I was ushered into my room and directed to go to bed, not to talk to anyone else for the night nor leave my room.

It was a strange situation and I was spooked enough not to question Jimmy’s advice. I brushed my teeth and double-checked the agenda to see a clear, concert-free schedule for tomorrow. My fingers pulled at the beaded string of a lamplight to turn it on and all my stresses began recounting themselves in my mind. Any of the photos I’d pre-developed from concerts mostly centered on Jimmy, I’d have to get more variety in the group’s pictures. I had to take more candid ones, as the stage ones tended to be more blurry from how dynamic they were in performing. All my work was scheduled to be done right after the plane landed, then I’d have 48 hours to get every photo developed. It would be a tight schedule but I’d just have to spend every minute in the studio to get it done.

**********

Chapter 2 - Who’s There?

I knew better that magic wasn’t real, yet there was something about the conjuring that made me feel uneasy. All of the lights were kept on as I went about with my nightly routine. Today was a particularly long day between traveling, photo taking, and the light partying tonight; I figured a bath was in order. Once I stepped into the tub, I felt all of the stress melting away in the heated water. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, and stretching out as much as I could with what space I had. While I felt relaxed, I couldn’t help but remember what had happened with the board; Jimmy’s warning still fresh on my mind. I quickly opened my eyes, sitting up and looked around. 

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Silence and nothing more; and hopefully nothing else for the remainder of the night. After toweling myself and slipping into my comfortable pajamas, I proceeded to turn off the lights and head straight to bed. The final light by the bedside was then switched off and I closed my eyes, trying my best to think of things that put me at ease. My favorite meal, browsing through records, and my family and friends. Even with those thoughts, I couldn’t help but think about Jimmy just one last time. 

My thoughts had slowly faded into the welcoming darkness of sleep, it was there that I would begin to dream. My dreams, like my photos, were often vivid and filled with intricate details. On the more rarer occasions, there were moments when I felt the sensation of being, in a way, awake in my unconscious state. Almost as if I was able to walk around and possibly have control, sometimes things would become frightening. To the point where I would awaken in a cold sweat, breathing heavily after the experience. Something seemed strange during one of those dreams, something familiar. 

But I didn’t think I was quite in a dreaming state yet, I couldn’t be when my body felt jolted awake by the startling shadow looming over the foot of the bed through the darkness. I rubbed my eyes, thinking maybe I had just envisioned something there because I’d been spooked earlier. The black silhouette still hadn’t disappeared. My heart was beating at my ribcage and my breathing had frozen entirely. I wanted to turn the lamp on, but I was afraid of whatever it was seeing me move around. Swallowing down my fear, I threw all my weight over to the side abruptly so I could pull the lamplight on and face this being so I could see what it was.

I anticipated to see some hideous, ferocious monster or a creepy man. Instead, I recognized the slender form of my dear guitarist friend and breathed a sigh of relief as my body relaxed into the pillows again. He must’ve come in very quietly while I was in the bathroom and tried to scare me by sneaking up like this. I was just thankful I had nothing to worry about.

“Jimmy, what are you doing here?” 

He smiled reassuringly, “Wanted to make sure you were alright after the whole deal with the spirit board.”

“I’m okay now, thanks. I’ve been thinking about work too, but I suppose I can think about that tomorrow. You should probably go back to your room before Peter finds you here and scolds you for not adhering to your bedtime.” I quipped.

A different expression flashed over his features. The smile had momentarily vanished and there was a sharp, interesting, studious look instead for a moment. His eyes looked a bit duller than usual, a smoke-green rather than their normal jade tone; but I assumed he was just tired from travel or feeling a little unwell. 

“Jimmy, is everything alright? You look tired.”

Jimmy kept his eyes on me as he sat down at the foot of the bed, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. 

“Did you- do you want to talk about something?”

His little smile reappeared, “How are you, my dear?”

“Oh, well I’m fine. Aside from what happened earlier, obviously, and I’m just a bit tired, you know?” I noted, feeling a bit relieved, yet unsure about Jimmy’s visit.

He looked down momentarily and gazed at me once more, his smirk fading, “How have you been feeling with the tour?”

“Well, I have been feeling stressed out. I don’t know- actually it’s fine, I don’t want to bore you about it.”

Jimmy leaned in a bit, “Are you sure?” 

I kept the covers close to my torso, despite being dressed, I felt oddly exposed, “Really I’m fine, I just need to rest. You should head back before Grant sees you. Otherwise he’ll wake up the whole floor once he finds you.”

“I suppose you’re right. Have a good night then. Pleasant dreams, my dear,” he said with a warm grin. 

He departed from the bed and quietly headed out. That was certainly an interesting conversation. I’ve known Jimmy for a number of years now and while we’ve had our professional and friendly interactions, that was definitely a peculiar one. Jimmy is an intriguing man, a bit strange, but nothing threatening. Although, I will admit that his interest in dark magic is one thing that I would never be able to wrap my head around. What is it with that man and his love for Aleister Crowley, I’ll never understand; everyone’s got a hobby I suppose. Perhaps this was just another effort for him to scare me. The last thing that I needed was to be visited at this hour, knowing that tomorrow was going to be a long, long day with the development process.

As expected, today’s schedule was just as busy as I imagined it would be. Everyone was up, feeling tired and hung over at the early hour. Breakfast was quickly scarfed down, as we all made our way down to the lobby. Grant was already there, possibly having a “reasonable” chat in regards to the party last night; making sure that everything would be well taken care of. 

“You look like hell Bonzo,” I stated to the exhausted drummer. 

He arched his back until he heard a crack, “I feel it, couldn’t get a bit of sleep last night. Damn bed springs must’ve screwed with me back.”

“I feel like I’m going to pass out, I’m so tired,” Robert added, rubbing and flicking away the sand from his eyes. 

“Oh, did the spirits keep you both up?” Jonesy muttered with a sly grin. 

“Shut up, there’s no such thing! Besides you were too much of a coward to try it,” Bonzo grumbled, his face puckered with annoyance. 

“And yet I feel well rested,” Jonesy playfully continued. 

“Well good for you John Paul Jones! Mr. ‘I slept so wonderfully and didn’t touch the stupid ouija board!'” Robert dramatically exclaimed, arms up in the air. 

Even though it was too early to hear such childish bickering, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. Suddenly a hand touched my shoulder and I very nearly jumped out of my skin. Quickly turning my head, I took in a sigh of relief to see Jimmy. 

“You have a gift for sneaking up on people. Jesus, Jimmy.”

“I don’t mean to, Y/N. Maybe you’re just skittish today.” He shrugged.

His two disgruntled bandmates whined about their restlessness while he walked through the lobby nonchalantly, sipping at a fresh cup of coffee while Peter addressed him about some band business. How could he be just fine after the whole ouija board affair? He’d taken on the role of the leader and yet looked noticeably less sluggish compared to the rest of us who’d participated. Maybe he’d known how to quell the wrath of the spirit and that’s why he was left alone… Either way, I certainly wouldn’t be playing with that board again and I doubted that the other two would.

**********

Chapter 3 - Picture Perfect

Worrying over work started taking hold of my mind again and I figured I might as well get started a bit on the process of developing photos. I’d have to pack them in my luggage very carefully but at least it would cut down on time to get my work done: sorting through which photos to keep, planning what other kinds of photos to take, maybe getting the band’s ideas on what else they wanted from me. Thankfully, I had all day access to a dark room; I’d be sure to thank Grant profusely after I got this developing work out of the way.

I set off with all my rolls of film in a bag after telling the manager where I was headed in case he needed me back. Luckily, there was a development place I’d seen earlier on a street corner and I could do it all myself for a pretty low fee. The clerk opened up the first darkroom for me, pointed out where all the materials were, and told me I’d have until the shop closed at 8. I likely didn’t need quite that long but I got started promptly once my eyes adjusted to the very dim, red light that barely illuminated the room. 

Hours had likely passed when I got all the photos onto film paper and started placing them in the solution to make all the colors appear. This was the most fun part because you could see splotches of colors and forms slowly spread over the plain white sheet; it was like watching magic before your eyes. It was also quite peaceful because no one ever came to disturb the silence and stillness of the room through the hours-long process, which was a preferable contrast to the ruckus every other minute of touring. 

A few photos that had fully come through, were pinned up to dry and I was finally able to evaluate my work. My feet stepped back a short distance and I observed them in as much detail as I could see in the dark. Not too bad for a band where half the members moved around a lot onstage. The effect of the stage lights over them created such a cool, mystical element to the photos, but I needed to do more candids. I also noticed a majority of them featured Jimmy over any other member of the band, completely accidentally. 

“You must not be afraid of the dark, spending so much time in rooms like this.” 

This time, I really did jump back in shock and felt my breath condense in my lungs. 

“Holy shit, Jimmy, you have got to stop sneaking up on me!” I scolded him.

“Peter told me you were here.” 

“Okay… did you need something from me?” 

“No, just want to see how everything was coming along.” He explained, stepping towards me and looking up at the photos drying over our heads.

He examined each of the photos with a careful eye, Jimmy was no stranger to detail, “Your work never fails to amaze, all of your shots are wonderful.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re in the majority of them Page,” I muttered, giving him a playful punch in the arm.

Jimmy chuckled, rubbing his arm, “No, I really do mean it. I can’t quite describe it, it’s just that with every photo that you’ve ever taken is just so… eye catching. It doesn’t matter what or who the subject is; I just find myself drawn to what you do.”

I couldn’t help but feel an increase in my heartbeat; I’ve heard a number of comments from him about my work, but certainly not like that. I will admit that out of the number of rock musicians that I’ve had the privilege of shooting, Jimmy was my favorite subject. Even during his brief time with The Yardbirds, I always seemed to lean more towards him in terms of photography. There was something about taking a picture of him that seemed to exude everything about him. His aura of mystery, cryptic nature, and impeding looks were there – traits that the general public viewed him as – and yet there was a more gentle side to him that only those closest to him knew. 

“Thank you Jimmy, that’s very kind of you to say,” I replied nervously. 

As he was about to turn towards me, I asked him to hold still; quickly grabbing a camera and stepping back a few steps until I lined him up perfectly in the viewer. The dimly red light of the dark room made him look so captivating, almost like an otherworldly figure in mythology or in religious text. I don’t know what compelled me to take these photos, knowing full well that there was more work to be done; adding on to what I have didn’t seem necessary. Yet this room, the lighting, and the way his body and face were positioned seemed so right. 

“So, what was that about me only looking at photos of myself again?” 

Rolling my eyes and smirking, I continued to snap a few more, “Oh hush, I didn’t want this moment to pass. When I see something that grabs my attention, I make sure to capture it.”

He smiled, biting down on his lower lip, “Always the busy little shutterbug, I see? Well I know they will turn out just wonderfully given your gallery in here.”

I gave him a look and crossed my arms over my chest, “They’d better turn out well. I’ll have to come back here tomorrow because I doubt the ones I just took will dry in time.”

“Oh, then I shouldn’t come back to assist you tomorrow?” 

“No, you’re too much of a distraction. And a heart attack waiting to happen.” I quipped, earning a faux-glare from the guitarist.

I reached up to test if the photos were dry yet, gently taking down the ones that were ready and lining a clear tabletop with the photos. Jimmy went towards them for further investigation while I made my rounds through the columns of developed photographs like taking clothes off a clothing line. He helped me out with the last couple and gathered them together for me. I thanked him quietly under my breath, taking the rest of my materials before following him out of the darkroom and up to the shop desk.

The clerk greeted us and bid us a good evening as we headed through the doors, thanking him profusely for letting me develop my photos. Jimmy pushed open the door and I grimaced at the sun’s brightness even at seven o’clock in the evening, searching for the guitarist’s hand to guide me while my eyes adjusted. He snickered as his vision returned to normal relatively quickly compared to mine. But he pulled me in closer and tugged me along the sidewalk back to the hotel until my eyes adjusted to the yellowed lights of the lobby. 

“You’ve been sitting down there practically in a mole’s burrow all day, you should get some rest.” Jimmy advised.

From the woozy feeling in my head and the weariness I felt around my eyes, I knew he was right. 

“Have you had any water or anything to eat at all?”

I shook my head, looking up at him apologetically.

“It’s a wonder you’re still standing upright, Y/N. Let’s get you up to your room, yeah?” 

I nodded, his hand on the small of my back as he helped urge me up the stairs and held some of my materials. Taking the room key from my pocket, I unlocked the door and stumbled down onto the foot of my bed with my folder of newly-developed photos, camera, the like splaying out around me. Finally getting off my feet felt like a dream and I sighed in delight, carelessly enjoying the feeling for just a few moments.

**********

Chapter 4 - Intrusive Thoughts

Jimmy placed himself at my feet and assisted in removing my shoes. He looked at the way my body would gently rise and fall as I breathed. I bit down on my lip, quietly moaning as a large pair of hands massaged my soles; this felt strange, yet wonderfully intimate. Having him at the foot of the bed, making sure that I was comfortable after such a long day on my feet. He placed a bit more pressure to relieve me of my aches. A talented guitarist, musical genius, and a masseuse all wrapped up into one. 

“Do you want me to order any room service for you? I want to make sure that you’ve eaten something before the day is out,” Jimmy informed as he worked on my arches. 

“Anything is fine, Jim- Oh, ooh, that feels really nice,” I bashfully commented, hiding my face in my hands. 

“Ticklish, are we?”

“No, it’s just I’m not used to this kind of treatment. Ooh, I wish you could have told me about this awhile ago. You would have been really helpful during my more stressful days.”

Jimmy settled himself on the bed, my foot still in his hands, causing me to shift my body a bit on the mattress, “Rough day today?” 

“More like a rough few months, years actually,” I confessed. “I just wonder if anything that I’m doing is worth my time and effort. Believe me, I love what I do with a passion and I am happy working with you and the many others I’ve done photo shoots with.”

“But?” he prompted. 

“I mean, there are so many talented photographers out there who have better skills than I do. I can’t help but wonder if any of the things that I create have any meaning to them. When people see them, they aren’t just seeing musicians in crazy clothes, swishing around their long hair, and parading around in makeup; they are witnessing an amazing form of art. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be remembered for what I’ve done.”

He leaned closer, “Well I believe that your work does mean something to people; it certainly does to me. And you know what?” 

“What?”

“Someday when, well if we make it to fifty, I will buy your entire collection and have an exhibition dedicated to your incredible work. It will be a traveling public display that will tour across the world. Everyone will come far and wide to witness your incredible photography!” Jimmy exclaimed with a big grin across his face. 

“Yeah, that will be the day,” I grumbled, turning to my side, hugging my legs close to my body.

“Such a pissant when you’re tired.” He teased at my half-hearted response while reaching for my room’s telephone. 

We spent the rest of the evening sitting together in my room with a room service dinner and looking through all the photos, now in better light. I started thinking through a way to get more shots through the wall of drums in the back for Bonzo and up over all the keyboard equipment for Jonesy. Robert was hard to miss but also quite active on stage, never resting in one spot for much more than fifteen seconds, which made it fairly difficult to get decent pictures of him in his element. Jimmy tried helping me brainstorm through these goals and assured me that everything would be just fine, I’d get all my photographs, etc., etc. 

My eyes started to feel heavy by nine-thirty and I slumped up against Jimmy’s shoulder, bashfully shifting away when I noticed myself in such a position. I gathered all the developed photos back into a folder and carefully arranged them in my luggage. My guest seemed to notice my exhaustion catching up with me and bid me a goodnight, excusing himself from my room with the offer of consulting him if I needed any kind of help. I thanked Jimmy again then hugged him just before he could disappear down the hallway, noticing that I had to mentally tell myself to let go. It felt so unbelievably comforting to have his arms loosely around me, like a big warm blanket over my back, and I filled my lungs with his scent that seemed to calm me even faster than his kind words. 

Once I was finally able to convince my arms to disconnect from him and let him go free, I took note of his pensive expression when his arms slowly drew away from me. He flashed me a light smile and muttered a quick “goodnight” again before heading back to his room. I forced myself into the bathroom for a shower, resisting the urge to fall right back into bed as is. While the water dripped over my skin, my mind only thought of the guitarist and his unexpectedly warm, maybe almost intimate, demeanor towards me. But any time I tried reasoning through what all those caring gestures meant, I argued against myself that he was probably just lonely or bored of sitting around the hotel and in want of familiar company. 

I lied back into bed, hiding myself under the big blanket and resting my cheek over the pillows. Only the lamplight was illuminating the room while I remained wrapped up in my thoughts. If I closed my eyes, I could see him leaning over my legs and working the stiffness out of my muscles, a pearly pink glow over his face that was always partially obscured by his shining black hair. Then there were his eyes. They spoke louder and clearer than anything that came from his mouth, unable to stifle back any internal reaction. They shone with a childlike joviality when he was happy and glowed intensely when he was lost in his own power up onstage. They became my favorite color after the first time I took a close headshot of him, distracting myself from my working process by trying to determine exactly what shade of green they were. 

My scrambled thoughts made time pass unnoticeably and I forcefully shoved away these foolish fancies I’d conjured up just because he’d been nice to me today. I groaned at my lack of sense, knowing that this was all meant to be completely professional and I was reading too far into his gestures. Unable to stop my mental battle, I shut off the lamp and tried making myself go to sleep instead, suddenly finding myself a lot more awake than I had been only minutes before. Only now did I once again remember yesterday’s not-so-merry merriment with the ouija board – apparently the sole idea that was still fresh enough in my mind and odd enough to strike something within me to adequately keep my thoughts away from Jimmy. 

I figured tonight was going to be another sleepless night, not that it was unfamiliar territory for me. All the work that was done today, having only eaten an actual meal just recently, and the time spent on Starship left me jet lagged. How long has it been since I had a proper night’s rest? Too long, I think; it’s a miracle that I am able to function at all. I understood that going into this profession, I was going to need to work hard and put in many hours to develop the photos. That I would need to make calls in order to have shoots with potential clients. While also managing my time to work in any dark rooms that were available for usage. I knew I shouldn’t be complaining, I really do enjoy what I do and I am grateful to have a job at all. Of course, I am one of the lucky ones, a number of my friends have been struggling to find work. Thankfully there are those, like Jimmy to me, who have been able to reach out to them and give them chances. I’ve also made the effort to send them some of my earnings, especially if things were getting rough for them in terms of finances. Spending time with so-called famous bands is one thing, but I still wanted to make sure that the ones that I love have some sense of security during troubling times.

Tossing and turning about upon the mattress, I decided to get up and take a warm bath. Perhaps the water will help with easing my body and mind into a restful state. Shutting my eyes and allowing myself to sink into the tub, the stress began to fade away. Whatever feelings of fear and mental anguish that I had previously, seemed to have finally disappeared. However, there was another feeling that was stirring within me, a dull, aching sensation between my legs. Where was this feeling deriving from? Why was it manifesting? Regardless of the questions, my hand slid up across my thighs and settled upon my lush mound. My fingertips carefully circled the sensitive bud, moving in varying directions; lightly pressing down until I could feel it protruding outward. My other hand had moved along the fleshy outline of my petals, venturing further until a single digit was situated and arched inside. Taking my time, I felt myself growing warmer and needier as I touched myself. Beginning to penetrate myself between slow and fast paces to my liking. Nearing my release, I could see the shadow of a figure materializing within my closed eyes; a silhouette whose structure and face became familiar; yet still appearing fuzzy. As the pleasurable pressure was building up, taking me to a higher state, their presence was slowly appearing. 

Finally on the cusp of my euphoric release, I arched my hips, bent my head back, and cried out, “Jimmy!” 

I opened my eyes, breathing heavily and lazily looked around. Everything was still the same, I was alone in a tub with now lukewarm water. Cupping a handful of water, I lifted up my hands, and let it rain over my hot face. I was well aware of what I said, and especially how I said it. After pulling the plug, drying off, getting into my pajamas, and turning off the lights; I flopped back onto the bed. A part of me felt guilty for saying his name, and yet simultaneously I felt satisfied calling for him. This was never to be revealed, not to a single soul; here’s hoping that these hotel walls were not paper thin and that no one would try to knock on the door to check up on me. Finally sleep had taken over.

**********

Chapter 5 - Above and Beyond

Hours before the show, I ventured off on my own to drop off the completed photographs. I worried if perhaps the journalists would be aware of who the main subject was in the pictures. My thoughts were confirmed as I tried to reason that taking pictures of a band required the right angles and patience. Believe me, I wanted to include Plant, Jonesy, and Bonzo, yet they were difficult for me to capture due to equipment or too much movement. I had called up Grant and let him know what happened, it came to me as a surprise that he personally drove himself over and had quite the discussion with the journalists. I felt terrible for putting them in such a position where someone as powerful and intimidating like Peter could easily put someone in their place. I felt like a useless child who needed their father to fight their battles, instead of making an effort to stand up for yourself. This ordeal was heightening my stress, and to make matters even more difficult Grant spoke with me about the lacking photos too. While he did not scold me, he spoke with me in a tone the same way that a disappointed parent would to their child. He reminded me that this was an important job and that he expected more from me. I let him know that I was doing the best that I could; I kept my composure looking at the beast of a man in his eyes as I spoke up and keenly listened. 

“I know that you can do better than this, when I want pictures of Led Zeppelin I expect the entire band; not Jimmy Page plus three. Do you understand?”

“I understand, thank you Mr. Grant,” I answered as I gulped down the lump in my throat.

Peter could see and sense that I was upset, he gave my shoulder a light squeeze, “Just try to do better tonight. Come on, we need to get ready.”

Once I entered the limo, I felt the tears welling up. I quickly bit the inside of my cheek and kept my eyes at the scenery going by the window. After thanking the driver for bringing us back to the hotel, I made my way back to my hotel room and prepared my equipment for tonight’s show. My scattered breathing and moistened eyes made it hard for me to concentrate; after splashing my face with cold water and bucking up, I made my way to the venue. I worked to prepare a few cameras upon the stage so that I could acquire better shots after tonight. For Jonesy, a camera was rigged to capture him when he sat upon his organ. Bonzo’s camera would be placed at a distance that was away from his drums, and thankfully not get knocked over by him or anyone else. Robert was going to be a challenge, since it seems like this would require an entire crew to capture that man. During the concert, I would find myself running back and forth between the stage cameras to shoot. Things seemed to go well, no slip ups so far. Still the lingering thought of not successfully capturing the remaining members was very much prevalent; causing me to spiral into self doubt. The cheers of the crowds, the band’s thunderous volume, incredibly bright lights, and the overall feeling of my aching lungs and beating heart were making me feel overstimulated. I had to keep going, even if I passed out and went cold; I was not going to give up. 

The show was once again a success. Whatever time had passed, the band completed their set and gave their adoring fans one last hurrah before Robert bid everyone a farewell and safe travels. Like any other night, the boys were quickly taken to their limos and returned to the hotel. The rest of the crew checked and turned off the equipment, hair products and costumes were sealed up and taken away, and I brought down my cameras; only one more show tomorrow night and then it was off to England. I was so happy knowing that everything went swimmingly tonight. Still there was the matter of the extra workload that needed to be taken care of, all would be well by morning; I have the time. 

It was already well past midnight once everyone got back to their rooms; before reaching the elevators, I ran into Grant and informed him of my strategy. While he praised my efforts, his expression read otherwise.

“Is everything alright? I mean, yeah, this will take a couple of days, but what matters is that I got all of the members,” I explained. 

“You did wonderfully, I just-” he sighed. “I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I have no choice but to shorten your deadline. You will need to work all day tomorrow and I’m afraid you cannot join us for the last show in the evening.” 

The lump was forming again, I could feel the waterworks approaching. Peter reached out his arms and held me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to make your life hell, it’s just business as usual. I already have a dark room ready for you in the morning. I’ll have someone drop you off at six and pick you up by midnight after the concert ends. Once we’re on Starship, I expect to see clear shots of each of the members. I will make sure to compensate you greatly,” he added, releasing me from his gentle grip. 

I collapsed onto the bed and let out a muffled scream into the pillow, trembling. Finally allowing my tears to run down, clutching the cushion close to my face. This was all I wanted, to cry and let everything out. No more holding back, no longer did I need to keep the mask of professionalism upon my face. I didn’t care about missing the show, I’d seen it plenty of times. However, knowing that there was so much to do, having only a single day to complete it was overwhelming. How could I have faith in myself? How could anyone have faith in me? How could Jimmy possibly believe that I was capable?

After weeping into the pillow, I walked over to the bathroom and wiped away my wet face. Rubbing my eyes and staring into my reflection, the stress that had been building up had eventually faded away once my body gave into exhaustion. My mind felt dazed, vision a bit hazy, unable to process anything else that was around me. The humming of the bathroom lights, the cold tile underneath my feet, and the aching of my legs after all of that running. I slipped out of my work clothes and crawled into bed. Very soon, the sensation of falling into a deep slumber had come upon me, and I slipped into the warm embrace of sleep. 

The heaviness in my heart and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach dissolved away while a numbness took over. I couldn’t feel the dull headache anymore, nor the trembling of my shaken nerves. At least sleep gave me repose from the distressing nature of life around me, fading my little consciousness into an empty darkness where I couldn’t fail or disappoint anyone. It’d been a hell of a few days concluding a whirlwind of a season with the band and deciding whether or not I could handle any more of it would have to be philosophized when I finally awoke. Hopefully I’d be in a clearer state of mind and productive enough to get my mountain of work done.

**********

Chapter 6 - Visitor

But I didn’t sleep for long, or maybe my mind became conscious in my sleep. It felt like I was still lying in bed, on my side, with a soft lamplight glowing through the room and the city lights glittering outside the window. I was enveloped in the warmth of a blanket and a hand delicately traced along the side of my face. The gesture soothed me, an easy smile finding its way over my lips as I turned to see the owner of the hand. My eyes opened wider as my sleepiness faded with a jolt to my chest, still surprised to find Jimmy’s face thoughtfully looking down at me. 

He wasn’t smiling, though. His eyes met mine, but they shone with a smoky cloudiness over that beautiful jade color I’d committed to my memory. They swept across my reclining form in a way they never had before: completely absorbed in his thoughts, curious at his reflections, maybe even desirous. And against part of my judgement, I wanted him to keep going. I wanted more – whatever it entailed – and finally fulfill my enrapturing fancies in any way that this reality allowed. 

My hand reached for his, not wanting to seem too presumptuous or forward but accepting his gestures. Jimmy reacted with a quirked brow, then swiftly leaned over me with his face an agonizing centimeter from mine. His kneeling body pinned me down into place, not that I wanted to resist, and he just barely traced his lips across my skin like soft velvet. I reached a hand to his cheek and drew him down to meet my lips, threading my fingers through his long hair. He hummed against my mouth when I tugged on the dark waves and I sighed in pleasure at the sensation. 

I began to whisper against his lips: “Oh Jimmy, I- ” 

But my voice hushed when my hands made a discovery as they raked through his hair. Something hard, almost bone-like, poked through the crown of his head. I traced the protrusion to make sure I wasn’t just imagining it there and nearly screamed, realizing that he had small horns that hadn’t been there before. This version of Jimmy observed my hesitance and cupped a hand over my mouth to keep me from alerting anyone else. I tried to shove him off, surprisingly failing at my endeavor.

“Shh, you’re perfectly safe, Y/N. Don’t you trust me?” He baited, slowly removing his hand.

“”No! You’re not Jimmy!”

“Then how come I needed no introduction? You’re so intimately acquainted with me, wouldn’t you have noticed if it wasn’t really me sooner? Besides, don’t you want this?” 

The surety of the cocky smirk on his lips and my silence was enough to determine where I stood in all this confusing mess. But I hadn’t imagined those horns, I felt them on his head just as I could feel the dull ache in my head returning. I still couldn’t tell if this was real; people don’t just have horns growing out of their heads like that and Jimmy was acting awfully forward towards me. 

“We are very well acquainted.” I affirmed. “But I think I just need to get some rest now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving.”

He gave me a pitiful look, “You really don’t understand how this works… I can’t leave until I fulfill my duty.” 

My brows furrowed, “Duty?”

“Yes, it’s a very complicated matter and I don’t want to add onto all of your concerns. But I cannot leave per your request,” He insisted then softened to deliver the following sentence: “Just relax, Y/N, and let me take care of you.”

The reassuring, yet insistent tone of his voice succeeded in getting me to surrender and I cautiously lied my head back down. Any tension lingering in his face had disappeared into the impression of a victorious smile, his lips pressing into mine as though to restart where we’d cut off. He left me unsatisfied but turned his attention to the sensitive skin from my jaw to my collarbones. His one hand framed my face while the other, more roughly, began to grasp through the thin fabric of my shirt over my chest. It was becoming fervent with each passing second, my own hands trying to reciprocate his perfect touches and follow his lead. I simply avoided combing through the roots of his hair again.

He slowly pulled the blanket lower down my body, finding the hem of the long shirt to tug off my torso and over my head. My lack of dress beneath it pleased him and he eagerly provided attention to every newly-exposed centimeter of skin with his swollen pink lips. It was like he was kissing away the tension in every little part of my body, and revitalizing me as they inched lower past my hip bones. Liquid fireworks burst through my veins when his hands spread over my thighs, slowly easing them apart with his frame leaning forward to me and his head lowering down. 

It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before; so electric and perfect with the slightest of stimuli from him. His simple exhales even served to tease me, each warm breath falling upon me and making my own breaths freeze. His calloused fingertips were just the right texture to torment me with their gentle touches. His nails lightly grazed across my skin. His lips were soothing velvet. His long hair tickled me. His silken silver tongue made me quiver beneath him. His chin was glistening when he finally pulled away, my proper breathing returning to me simultaneously.

“Still want me to leave?” He taunted.

I shook my head adamantly, my eyes pleading for him to continue and willing to do almost anything for it. He’d brought me right to the cliff’s edge but stopped just before I succumbed to the pull and crashed into pleasure. Now the thought of him leaving like this was absolutely unbearable. Evidently, he wasn’t going to: his hands momentarily moved to remove his own clothing quickly, then he returned to being on the prowl like a sleek panther choosing just the right moment to pounce on their prey. Accepting the being before me, I captured his lips and grasped onto his shoulders. The pulsations throughout my body were screaming for him. Boldly, I allowed one of my hands to venture across his chest, brushing along his stomach, until I felt his member with my fingertips. Jimmy moaned and grabbed my wrist, placing it above my head. For good measure he held the other one down as well.

**********

Chapter 7 - Ravenous

“You’ve very eager, I see. Such a clever woman, thinking that you could simply grab my cock like that,” he warned, although his tone was soft. “Just be patient.”

After freeing my wrists, he ordered me to sit up on my thighs and that I was to keep my hands on the bed. He examined my figure with his foggy eyes, the back of his hand caressing my face and then holding onto my jawline; pressing his lips and then his tongue into my mouth, which I gladly allowed. He went on to lap my skin, tonguing me in places that caused me to shudder with delight. His tongue slithered along my neck and collarbone. His hands were firmly placed onto my hips, circling my breasts and teasing my taut nipples; closing his lips around them, suckling briefly, and then releasing with a moistened pop. I yelped loudly as he started to nibble, keeping a soft but firm grip; taking his sweet time with my budding breasts. The covers underneath were becoming wetter with each passing second; I needed to find release, but with Jimmy at the reins he was going to continue his seductive game regardless. I watched as his snake-like teeth and tongue lavished my form, finding the most sensitive spots to gnaw on and lash at. He had mercy on me as his lips returned to plant warm kisses on every area that he previously encountered, trailing them down to my stomach. Kneeling at my knees, his hands sweetly massaged my thighs coaxing me to open them. Craning his head up, he stared into my eyes as he placed a gentle kiss onto my legs. Perhaps it was my heightened libido or my mind playing tricks on me, but the pair of eyes that appeared so murky seemed to shine with the same emerald tint as Jimmy’s.

“Open up, just once more for me to taste you. And I want you to look at me as well.”

Following his demand, I spread my thighs apart and positioned myself until I was settled onto my back; his mouth just centimeters away from my dripping center. 

“Keep your eyes on me. And don’t worry, I’ll hold you,” he muttered slyly, taking a slow lick of my opening and keeping me steady.

I felt as if my body was going to give in at any moment as he sampled me. He savored every bit of my apex, as if I were his last meal. Taking a part of my labia between his lips, only to release, grab onto the skin, and free me once more. The tip of his tongue traced my clitoris, painting it with slow strokes and then quickening the pace. My body couldn’t help but tremble and shake to these incredible sensations, I even found myself pressing down and vibrating my hips; hoping that he would take the hint. His tongue further explored, pressing it as far as he could reach; he clearly got the message loud and clear. Although I was to keep my hands away from his shaft, he didn’t say anything about grabbing his hair; and so my fingers clutched onto his raven locks, keeping my hands away from the hidden horns. His large hands were placed underneath my rear, causing my body to shift more onto his ravenous mouth, further satisfying this animal appetite; causing me to squeal. Our eyes had never parted once.

“Ji-Jimmy! I- I- need- you to-” I mewled, and he stopped momentarily.

Dragging his face away from my center, he cleaned his lips with his tongue and gave me a naughty smirk, “Yes? What is it?”

He looked so delectable, the lower half of his face gleaming; a little string of my nectar still connected from his lips to my petals. The sight sent ripples through my torso and I physically felt like I was aching for him to do something, anything at all besides stare at me with that damn smirk on his face. My pulse was quickened and my nerves were attuned to the rising anticipation within me. 

“Jimmy, please.” I begged. “Please keep going.”

“You just need it so badly, don’t you? Poor thing, lying down in agony and wanting my mouth desperately when I’ve barely done anything to you.”

His taunts only made it worse, my head leaned back into the pillow as another set of waves flooded through me and almost overwhelmed me. I’d been wanting this, consciously or subconsciously, for so long that having it play out was impossibly pleasurable and it was working me up faster than I thought. My fingers curled further into his hair, gently pulling him to move forward again as a hint but earning a reprimand. 

“Ah-ah, good girls ask.” He warned, wrapping his grip around my wrists again.

“But I did as- ”

“Tell me exactly what you want, Y/N.” 

I breathed out whatever was left of my restraint in a sigh, “I want you to do anything you want to me. Touch me, devour me, ravish me however you want. Just don’t fucking stop.” 

He grinned wider and leaned forward so I could feel his warm breath against my folds, “That’s what I like to hear.” 

His tongue continued to lap at me, collecting every single drop into his mouth while his thumb circled my clit just the right way so my hips began to buck off the sheets. My stomach muscles tensed as my breaths wavered through my lungs and I gave out quiet mewls of delight instead of silent exhales. Jimmy left me neglected once more when I was just on the precipice, but set to work right beside my hip bone before I could protest. His sharp teeth made me cry out as they nipped at my skin, the bites soothed by the suctioning of his lips around the tender spot. He continued until a bruised color appeared and I could feel its dull sting even when he pulled away.

My breaths slowly steadied for a moment, but I gasped when his arms suddenly pulled my chest against his own and my heated skin felt like it was set aflame at the collision. His nails dug into my back, holding me close enough that our lips were maybe an inch apart. I wanted to lean in for another dizzying kiss and wrap my arms around his neck as if we could somehow get even closer. His tip prodded against me in this position and I could feel myself dripping over him, wearing down his patience to hold back as his arms pushed my body lower. My head fell back when he deeply delved right into me, gravity making me continue taking all of him. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the euphoric, spinning intoxication that filled my mind. My lips fell apart with a silent moan, Jimmy’s mouth humming against my neck. 

“Oh fuck, darling, you feel like heaven.” He whispered.

“Please just fuck me, Jimmy.” I pleaded with my whimpering voice.

“As you wish…” He warned, nipping his teeth into my neck in preparation.

Lingering hands down my back lifted me up while he drew his hips back, granting me a short reprieve then driving his whole length back into me. The initially slow rhythm of him going fully in and pulling back so the ridge of his tip teased along my entrance was torture. His pace, though, soon flipped to being so quick that I could barely keep up breathing. Our bodies were completely entwined, sweat beading over my skin as I tried to match his animalistic urgency. I couldn’t sense anything outside of our own vulgar sounds, lidded eyes, fiery friction, and sometimes the taste of his mouth against mine. My hands clutched onto Jimmy’s shoulders desperately for some sense of stability while his hands rocked my hips with his own, forcing me to ride out my high completely and soak his shaft in the process. 

The rhythm of his thrusts left me feeling dizzy and weak; a sensation that I was very much enjoying. I attempted to follow his movements, allowing myself to reciprocate as much as I could. Even as my peripheral vision was becoming hazy, my eyes were looking deeply into Jimmy’s eyes; still seeing that hint of green in the gloomy irises. My head was tingling, skin burning up, heart rapidly beating, lungs emptied, and muscles tightening. Finally, another release, in the form of such a pleasurable climax. A hand was placed onto the back of my neck and the other holding my back; carefully laying my head on the pillow. We held one another in the darkness of the room, pressing our tired bodies closely. His fingers dragged along my arms, while his lips pressed a sweet kiss to my forehead; his loving, warm smile returning. I returned his sweet gesture with an exhausted grin. Jimmy brushed my cheek with his thumb, planting more pecks upon my face; leaving my lips for last with a longer kiss. Jimmy, my dearest Jimmy. 

“Sleep,” he whispered. 

With nearly closed eyes, I resisted, “No, not yet, please… let me stay awake. Just a little… more…”

In the calm and quiet of our room, the only source of light was coming from the moon. Rays of cool luminescence casted upon his form, making him appear supernal. If only the night could last just a bit longer. That the daylight would not appear, at least not for a while. I wasn’t ready to sleep, even though my body was in need of it. Oh, how I wish I was able to keep myself from being entranced by slumber; this was a battle that could not be won. Now with Jimmy’s hand cradling the back of my head, his fingers massaging my scalp, I gave in. He waited and watched as I slept; hair a tangled mess and flesh drenched with sweat. His other hand traced the little marks that were left as a result of his gripping and biting. He cursed himself for handling me in a rough manner, even if I did relish the feeling. What mattered to him was that in the end, I was happy and felt safe; arms gently rocking my frame. 

He nuzzled his nose into my neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to my ear, “The pact has been set.”

If I hadn’t been so drained, I would’ve inquired what that ominous statement was supposed to mean. But my heartbeat and breathing slowed into a calming rhythm while my heavy eyelids helplessly drooped shut, giving way to sleep. My body still felt warm and the bed still dipped by my feet, signalling that Jimmy had yet to leave me. I slipped away dreamlessly, wondering if maybe that whole tryst was the dream and not as real as it felt.

**********

[ argument in this one & it's not very pretty ]

Chapter 8 - Revealed

The morning began early with a wakeup call Peter arranged for me so I could get all the developing work done today. My mind was in a daze and getting ready felt like moving through water, smooth but heavy friction seemingly pulling back at every part of my body. I found myself downstairs, sitting before my breakfast and still not quite conscious enough to touch it. Surprisingly, Jimmy appeared and walked right up to my seat then took the one just opposite. He looked a lot more put-together this early than I did and I tried swallowing the lump in my throat at whatever the hell happened the last night.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted me warmly.

My eyes dared to look right into his, noticing that their hue was their regular, brighter green and not the smoky color I saw last night. The beat of my heart was hammering against my sternum and electric pulses shot through my nerves at the eye contact. I could feel my face heating up and only hoped that he couldn’t tell that I was so flustered. But the little smile he was trying to hide told me that I didn’t disguise it well enough.

“Hi Jimmy.” 

“Sleep well?” 

I took in a breath before answering: “Well, I guess. I had a bit of a weird dream, but otherwise I slept pretty soundly. How about y- ?”

“Really? What sort of dream?” He asked with sudden interest. 

“Oh nothing very striking, just felt like someone was in my room.”

“Liar. Where’d you get that mark from then?” Jimmy pointed towards my neck.

My hand quickly reached up to feel for whatever he’d noticed, drawing back my touch instantly from the slight sting of the sensitive skin where I must’ve been scratched or something the previous night. I looked back at the guitarist with wide eyes, noting his mouth curled up in a smile. 

“It’s not that noticeable, is it?”

“No, I’m just very observant.” He said smugly. “You couldn’t have done that to yourself, though, so who were you with?”

“What? I wasn’t with anyone,” I fibbed. 

“Are you absolutely sure about that, my dear?” he playfully quipped.

“Yes, who would want to be with me, Jimmy?” That hit a little close to home.

Jimmy’s joking smirk faded into a look of concern, “Why would you say something like that?”

“Just forget it, okay? I don’t need your sympathy,” I sharply protested, even though my heart said otherwise. “Look, I need to go. I have a long work day ahead of me.”

“I’ll see you later at the show, then?”

I bit down on my tongue, not looking at him in the eyes as I answered, “I have to work late tonight, then I’m heading straight to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

After scarfing down the remainder of my food, I hurried back to my room and grabbed what I needed; then it was off to the dark room once more. A part of me wanted to turn around to see if Jimmy was watching me, but I had to focus; there are more important matters to deal with than love and sex. After being dropped off, I kept myself busy with the work of taking and processing the photographs. I was quite pleased to see that the pictures did indeed come out clearly, having acquired shots of each of the members in their own world. Jonesy working with his bass guitar and sitting before his organ like a grand pianist playing before his spectating audience. Bonzo, like a ferocious beast he was practically roaring, as he created thunder and lighting with his drums. Robert’s appearance was that of an angel, with a stance that exuded lust especially with the positioning of his hips. Finally, there was Jimmy in all his glory; powerful, yet delicate. Strong, but seemingly weak and frail, as he wielded his guitar, but he held the instrument closely and softly to his body; treating it with such care. Yet handling it in a way that showed a more dominant side. Oh those ridiculous thoughts were distracting me again, back to work and nothing more! There was so much to do, and only so many hours in a day; only one day. Today and then it was off to bed, get on the Starship early tomorrow morning, and back to the same routine of clicking and processing. The ticking on the clock seemed to have slowed down as the hours had gone on, I kept myself from looking at the device on the wall; knowing what time it was would only make me feel even more pressured to finish. 

Then, finally, everything was complete. I sat down on the floor, looking at every photo that was developed with tired eyes. These were more than simple pictures to appease music magazines and fanatics alike, both present and future, this was art. The kind of art that could be captured to tell a story to those who viewed them. Others may deem photography to be considered a lesser form of art compared to painting, sculpting, writing, and performing; none of that mattered to me. These were pieces of history that would be remembered, not just for those who adored Led Zeppelin, but for those who had a love of music. A loud knock startled me from my daydreaming, the owner of the shop informed me that someone was here to pick me up. After mentioning that I would be out soon, I quickly cleaned up the space, sealed the photos away, and grabbed my cameras. Upon walking outside, a familiar face greeted me with a warm smile; although I felt that maybe I was better off walking alone back to the hotel.

“Are you ready to leave?” Jimmy asked, walking closer and placing a jacket around my shoulders.

I nodded, keeping my eyes to the ground, walking past him and taking a seat in the limousine. The drive back was silent, I kept the pictures close to me; keeping my eyes away from Jimmy. My heart felt heavy, and I wanted to say something, anything to break the stillness. Jimmy took in a deep breath, running his hands through his hair; I wonder if he had to avoid the horns as well. 

“Did you eat anything?” he wondered.

“I had breakfast, remember?”

“Besides that. Did you eat anything afterwards?”

“What do you think, Jimmy?” I sharply replied, glaring at him.

He backed off, but held my hand, “I want to talk about something once we’re back at the hotel.”

I snatched my hand away from his grasp, “Don’t you have an after party to go to, Mr. Big Shot rockstar?” 

“Please, it’s very serious, just lis-”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it! Just go ahead and get drunk, while you fuck around with your little groupies, Page!” I snapped, turning away from him. 

“It’s about last night,” he calmly mentioned.

My stomach turned, heart palpitating rapidly; he did know something about it after all. I looked over to face him, but instead he was gazing at the passing city, sighing as he rested his chin in his hand, “I have something that I need to tell you, but I must tell you alone. As soon as we reach the lobby, stay by my side. Even if the press, fans, or Grant tries to talk to either of us, we head straight to the elevator.”

Upon arrival, Jimmy took my hand and kept me close as we walked through the bustling groups of fans and obnoxious shutterbugs. His grip tightened, protecting me at all costs and we made it safely to the elevator. Once the bell dinged to his floor, Jimmy and I made our way past the party, slipping away from the busy festivities. Instead we found ourselves in another part of the floor’s hallway into a different room.

“I took the liberty of purchasing another room for us, just so we have some privacy. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll order something in the meantime. Do you want anything in particular?” he offered.

“Anything is fine, Jimmy, I’m not too picky.”

After a long shower, I slipped into a robe and sat on the bed, watching Jimmy pay the employee a fine tip and bringing the food over. He only took small bites as I ate until my stomach was full. Once we finished, we placed our plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins in the hallway. He turned toward me and sat down by my side.

“Right, now then. How do I begin to tell you?”

I stood up before him, “Well for starters, you’ve been acting really weird around me. I mean, I know you’re a bit shy and sometimes eccentric, but there’s something different about you; you’ve changed. How about let’s start by you telling me what is going on here,” I mustered.

He held my hands once more, looking up into my eyes, “You’re right, you deserve to know… about everything,” suddenly the shine in his eyes became dull.

“Jim-”, he brought me closer, having me sit down on the mattress.

“Shh, you’re afraid, it’s alright.”

I wanted to scream, I was ready to let him have it. However, once his eyes changed before me, I could feel my blood running cold as ice.

“Do you remember when we fiddled about with that ouija board? Then Robert and Bonzo decided to leave? Well the two of them left before we could put the spirit back to rest. It wasn’t all too pleased when they departed early, even when you and I had to quickly say our goodbyes to it,” he explained.

The room felt cold and ominous, almost as if we were in a graveyard covered with heavy fog underneath the moonlight. I wanted to run, to snatch my hands from his, and head for the door; yet I couldn’t seem to do it. Was it fear holding me back? 

“And, what happened Jimmy?” I asked, trembling at the sight.

His thumbs rubbed circles into my hands, “When I was alone in my room, something visited me and told me that we were both in grave danger. It seems that we had awakened more than just a ghost, it was a demon. It told me that we were to suffer for disturbing their slumber, and for not upholding our end of the bargain.”

“What bargain?” I desperately asked, squeezing onto his hands.

“A choice had to be made, we either had to sell our souls or suffer for eternity in fire and brimstone. So I offered something else instead,” he continued.

I swallowed, taking in shaken breaths, “What did you do?” 

“I had to make a deal. I told the demon that I would work for it, so long as you would not be harmed an-”

“You became one of them?” I interrupted, hoping that it wasn’t true; even though denial and blind faith was not enough to salvage him.

“I had no other choice. I informed it that I would work, under the condition that I could become a demon that would not make anyone suffer. So I became an incubus, a creature that visits mortals in their sleep, but-” he gulped, holding back tears as best as he could. “But, I was only told that all I had to do was appear before you throughout the night, I thought it was to spook you. I didn’t realize that my duty was to sleep with you until later. This thing that I’ve become, it took a greater hold on me. I tried to fight it! Believe me, I did what I could! I was never told, never!” 

My tears rolled down, I released my grip, standing up again and I angrily shouted, “So- so- you impregnated me?! With a demon?! That can’t be- No! How could you do this to me?! You’ve turned this into Rosemary’s Baby, Jimmy!”

“No, it’s not-”

“No! You listen to me! I’m afraid and I don’t know what to do! This is all your fault! None of this would have happened if you didn’t use that fucking board! Shame on you! I hate you! I hate you so much!” I screeched, slapping him roughly across his face.

“Y-You don’t mean that.” He stated through a deep breath. “And nothing’s going to happen with you, I promise. That’s why I had to make the deal and I was too scared for you in the moment that I didn’t question it. I can try to change it if that makes you feel better and if I can contact the same spirit. But above all this mess, I want you to know that I would never do anything that would hurt you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” I asked through gritted teeth and tears threatening to slip down my cheeks.

His eyes fell to the floor, “You just have to trust me.”

I gave him an incredulous look and shook my head: “No, Jimmy. I can’t just take your word for this because you chose to do it blindly and kept this from me when you had more than enough time to tell me last night. Everything you do is planned and considered, not just on a whim. You can’t just say you didn’t know what you got into and continued on with something like that when you found out.”

A crystalline sheen formed over his eyes, “I know and I’m so fucking sorry. It just made me so scared for your life that I didn’t even bother to consider prodding at the offer so the demon wouldn’t just tire of me and harm you anyways. A-And I didn’t want to say this to you this way… but I care for you so much that I couldn’t imagine knowingly letting something bad happening to you… so I’d rather it be me than some sadistic demon.”

“Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough as it is and I’m leaving the minute my professional responsibilities here are over.”

But as I tried to march back to my room, his hand clutched tightly over my wrist and pulled me close to him. I looked up at him with nothing but fury in my eyes, anger rolling off of me in waves. My chest felt like it was heaving through every heavy breath while my patience wore thinner by the moment. 

“I’m not just going to let you go. I can’t. Believe me, I lo- care for you enough to let you go if you wish… but this bind I have to you will make me keep appearing to you every night we’re apart. I can’t control that. So, I can either bargain with the demon right now… or you stay with me and nothing else has to happen, I’ll have full control of my-”

“Ha!” I exclaimed dryly. “You just don’t want me to leave and realize that I’m not just going to believe your word. You’re desperate.”

His gaze was pained as his lips remained pursed together in silence. Then, in a flash, he pulled me in with his hand at the back of my head and captured my lips with his. I protested against them but couldn’t break away, instead maneuvering to bite his lower lip until he’d let me go on his own. Jimmy merely gasped against my mouth and held me tighter. 

“I’m not letting you go. If you don’t want to be harmed again, you have to stay in the same room as me for the entire night. I’ll sleep on the goddamn floor or foot of the bed and you can tie my hands together if that makes you feel safer, but I’m begging you not to leave.” He commanded, his lips brushing mine with every sentence.

All the sense in me was screaming to just kick, scream, and shove him away until I was locked away in my room. But I stayed. My feet were rooted to the floor, my mind was swayed by the way he was holding me and how protective his words sounded. With all the mounting stresses of the previous days, weeks, and months… I really just wanted to let go. To let someone else watch over me and take control of everything. But my hesitance was in Jimmy’s trustworthiness after his confession.

“I swear, if you’re lying to me Page…” 

“You may do anything you wish with me if you find yourself in danger following through all of that. I say that in good faith because I’ll keep watch and won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” 

His arms slowly released me and I went to the bathroom to refresh myself before finally getting some rest. As I rinsed my face with cool water, I started to reason through all of this and felt a headache coming on from it. I shook away the thoughts and changed into a hotel robe before venturing back out. This would be the one chance I’d give him to prove his word true or I’d figure a way out of this mess myself. I collapsed over the blanket with my head on the pillows and laid there quietly, eyelids heavy but my mind too active to rest quite yet.

“You’re not going to impose any rules?” Jimmy inquired.

“No. You should be able to prove yourself without me making it impossible for you to break your promises.”

“Can I, um, lay down next to you then?”

I shrugged, facing away from him with a stoic expression while I tried to do anything but think about today’s revelation. He shut the lamplight off. The bed dipped down beside me and I could feel his body heat through the thick robe, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to keep him from my mind no matter how hard I tried. His hand hesitantly reached for mine then delicately clasped it. My heart felt like a stone in my chest. 

“Truly, I never intended to harm you. All those details were kept from me and then when I tried to back off, some sort of compulsion just forced me to. It was like my body or mouth was moving on its own and I could only watch it happen. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered shakily in the dark, his lips pressing to my knuckles in apology.

I sighed. “It’s a little bit of my fault too: I asked you to keep going and told you not to stop. Doesn’t excuse the whole demon-bargaining thing, but I did ask for it once you’d already started.”

“You can’t blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault and you probably felt too afraid or overpowered to refuse in the moment. I fucked up, not you.”

**********

Chapter 9 - Hope

The morning light shined through a crack between the curtains, rays of sunshine illuminating upon the wall. The quiet murmurs of hotel guests passing by the door, as squeaking wheels of cleaning carts were being pushed. Everything seemed so typical, life on the outside continued as it always did. Life in this room, time, seemed to have slowed down. I stared at the ceiling, breathing lightly, wondering what was next. What was going to happen to me? What was going to happen to Jimmy? Should I give Grant the photos, wait until the check comes in, and leave? Or was it safer to stay here instead? Did Jimmy really mean it when he said that he would find a way to make things right? 

I rolled over towards him, tapping his shoulder, gently whispering his name, “Jimmy, please wake up.”

He took in a deep breath, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and looked at me, “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m still upset with you. I don’t know how or what you plan on doing in order to fix this,” I began. “But I need you to promise me something, and I want you to look me in the eyes and listen.”

He turned onto his side, scooting closer. I took in a deep breath, “Whatever happens, we need to be honest with each other. This whole thing has been a rollercoaster from the start, I don’t think either of us know when it will ever end.”

Jimmy kept silent and continued to listen, “I will say this, we both want things to work out for us. I don’t care if my time as a photographer ends with the band or not. Or if Led Zeppelin is still miraculously together decades later. We’re going to do what we can. Will you help me?”

He held me close, fingers grabbing onto the back of the robe. He never let go for some time, he trembled as he cradled me. Tears cascaded down our faces, I felt comforted when he placed his arms around me; I too found myself shaking. 

“As soon as we arrive in England today, I will make contact. And if you wish, I want you to join me. We will face this thing head on, together. It’s not just a promise, it’s a guarantee,” he spoke softly. 

It was a miracle that everyone was standing after a long night of partying, Jonesy somehow appearing well rested when compared to the others. Everything was packed away, another tour had come to an end, and everyone said their farewells. Crew members parted and headed home, to earn some much needed rest; until it was time to find another band to work with. The set pieces, lighting, make up, clothes, and stage effects were safely stored away. I handed Grant the completed pictures, as promised he paid me for my extended work efforts with a sizable check. He let me know that we would look them over once we arrived on Starship. The drive back to the landing strip was a short one, considering how early it was in the city. The band mates had their suspicions with Jimmy and myself, sensing that there was something budding between us; or perhaps trouble in paradise. Jimmy walked me over to the staircase, placing his jacket on my shoulders to shield me from the blustery winds. Once we were inside, he whisked me away to the private bedroom. 

After he locked the door, he got down on his knees, “Come live with me, I want you in my life, forever.”

I was taken aback by his request, “I- wha- Jimmy…”

“I need you. I’ve needed you for so long. All these years, I was such a coward; I could never tell you.”

This was less than ideal, yet I prodded, “Jimmy, are you telling the truth? This isn’t another one of your cruel tricks or mystic powers?”

“Look me in the eyes and listen. I love you, I always will. No matter what happens, I will protect you at all costs.”

His eyes were shining as he spoke. Cautiously, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the bony protrusions within his locks. I got down to my knees as well, “Jimmy, I am still upset with you… but thank you. I’ve been around for a while and I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

He held my head in his hands, “Do you love me?”

I looked into his luminous green eyes, pressing my forehead against his, and cautiously answered, “Yes, I always have.”


	93. houses of the holy (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: slightly nsfw

request: "ONLY if you have time!!... You and Jimmy are listening to a demo pressing of Houses of the Holy before it gets released and you guys start getting cheeky, and one things leads to another...."

From the moment when the pin touched the vinyl and the heartbeat-racing introduction of the first track, The Song Remains the Same, I was hooked with the album demo. My wide-eyed, slack-jawed, entirely enraptured reaction entertained Jimmy as he chuckled to himself at observing me. He sat back beside me and watched me take in the brand-new music without any guise of expression. My eyes shut to focus more attention to what I was hearing, occasionally glancing to the producer and guitarist of the record at my side, amusement evident on his face still while he reminisced a bit on the production process in the studio. 

I could tell that he was experimenting with what he could do in a track while Robert wailed along the lyrics and the rhythm section pounded through my veins. It was incredible and energizing; the second track completely contrasting with its gentleness and professions of love. I smiled at the singer’s sweet words and how Jimmy’s playing created a bittersweet tone like watching raindrops patter into the lush earth of a meadow. The passionate bridge captured my very soul and then slowly released me as the song eased back into its initial delicate nature. 

“Oh Jimmy, that one was just… so beautiful. It amazes me how you can just come up with something like that.” I fawned as the playful guitar part started the next song.

“The words are Robert’s and the idea of a ballad was really George Harrison’s. I just paired the two together.” He shrugged, trying to tuck away his pride.

“It’s magnificent.”

“Glad you like it so much, darling. You made for good inspiration for quite a few of these songs too so take some of the credit for yourself.”

“Is that so? I never fancied myself to be a real muse.”

He pulled me closer and planted a chaste kiss over my lips, “Well you most certainly are now.”

I repositioned myself over his lap and brushed his hair back with my hands, “Thank you for playing all this for me. It means a lot that you trust me with it and that I somehow, miraculously was an inspiration for some of it.”

He grinned wider at my genuine sentiments and gently lowered me down so my head lied over the arm of the sofa. I looked up at him curiously as his hands traced along my hips then rested over the pockets of my jeans for a moment. His fingers pulled them down by the beltloops and eased the stiff denim material over my feet, tossing the jeans off to the side. My shirt followed suit; all my newly exposed skin being warmed by the touch of his fingertips while he leaned over to press his lips over every inch of my torso from my shoulders down to my hipbones. 

“Jimmy, what are you doing?” I inquired with a breathy voice.

“Can’t I just show appreciation for my muse?” He answered, his lips still grazing over my stomach. 

“You’re too sweet.” I smiled, combing a hand through his dark waves. 

The album kept playing through in the background and I took it in with Jimmy’s tempting touches over me for accompaniment. He seemed to move with the music, working me up then backing off as the lines rose and fell on the record. My gasps and soft moans lined up with some of Robert’s vocals under his power, like some form of magic. Only when he had to go flip the record did he part from me, my body aching for his touch again. He returned: his teeth nipped and his tongue began to lick hot stripes along my heated skin with the beginning of a new song, this one beautifully astringent with its unique guitar opening. Desire swirled through my abdomen and I helplessly let my hands roam over him as encouragement.

But when my touch lingered beneath the zipper of his pants, Jimmy halted and grabbed my wrist.

“Not so fast, love. I’ve still got the rest of the album to tease you through.” He revealed, pinning both my wrists at my sides before continuing his motions.

I writhed beneath him for more: contact, harder touches, further exploration, anything beyond these torturous teases. But Jimmy kept to his word and didn’t entertain my desperate whims. By now, his blistered, talented fingertips were like tiny, blazing flames along my skin that just barely burnt me in the austere darkness of No Quarter. He only began to mark me up through the end of the last song, the record going out with a bang and my nerves trembling with anticipation with three new bruises littered over me. 

Like a flash, Jimmy whisked me up by the hand and shut off the record player swiftly before tugging me along down the hallway. He spun me round by the arm so I fell back over the foot of the made bed, giving me only a moment to collect my breath while he shed his own clothes. The prospect never failed to invigorate me for what certainly lie ahead – my heartbeat practically humming in my chest and my breaths quickening as I stared up at the man leaning over me. His stare was unreadable; neither cold nor friendly while hinting at both studious and ravenous. I sat up, my hands clasping to the sides of his face while I collided my lips with his and earned a pleased mewl from him. 

His arms snaked around my back and held me up closer to him until our skin was touching, making him fill my entire field of view. I could look right into his vivid irises, feel his warm breaths against my face, get a tickle from the ends of his curled hair, smell the cigarettes on his breath, and taste his pouted lips against mine. My head was spinning and my lungs were running out of air just as Jimmy’s hand on my chin pulled me back. I gasped to soothe my breathlessness, my gaze never leaving his silently commanding face while his hand still held my face.

“You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited for you to hear the album and how long I’ve visualized all this in my mind, my darling muse.” He expressed emphatically, dotting a kiss to the tip of my nose as he hushed: “Even up to this very moment.”


	94. bad semi-publicity (mick jagger x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Mick Jagger x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "Need more mick...maybe him fucking your face or like...public or semi-public sex 🥴 literally can’t get enough of your writing thank you sm"

Before I could process what was happening around me, the concert had ended and I was being whisked away through the twisting hallways backstage by the frontman himself. Tingling energy rushed through me when his arm cloaked over my shoulders, the contact only enhancing the excitement I’d been feeling while watching the concert. He seemed to be in a frenzy, absolutely set on getting to wherever he was headed with me in tow and not stopping for anything with his flying footsteps. His hand finally landed on a doorknob and opened it quickly, pushing me inside before himself then shutting the door before anyone could see where we’d gone.

We were surrounded by darkness and I kept holding onto his hand for a sense of stability, then he flipped on a light. As my eyes wandered over our surroundings, I noticed that we were in a broom closet of some type with stacks of cleaning supplies lining the walls and barely any spare room with us inside of it. With a single step back, I bumped into a shelf and found myself standing chest-to-chest with Mick since he was nearly pressed up against the door. He had a lazy smile over his glistening face and the dim, old light cast a warm glow across his features. 

“What are we doing back here?” I asked breathlessly.

“I’m sure you can guess, love.” 

“Getting supplies to clean up the mess you boys left in the dressing rooms?”

“Very funny.” He remarked. “Such a tease with that fucking look on your face watching from the side of the stage. It was hard not to just take you right there in the middle of it.”

“I see, you have a problem you want me to take care of.” 

“Such a smart one you are, Y/N.” 

“And you really can’t wait another half-hour until we’re in a private hotel room rather than going for it in a broom closet?” 

“No, why waste the moment? That way we’ll both have some time to recover before we get to the hotel room.” 

“Absolutely insatiable.” I remarked under my breath as I teased my hands underneath the loose fabric of his shirt. 

Mick only grasped at my ass through my clothes and pleaded for me to get on with it already, removing his hands from me to undo his belt buckle. He pulled them down by the waist, just low enough to grant me access and to quickly pull up for when we’d have to leave soon. His cock vulgarly tapped against the skin of his stomach and he hummed with building anticipation. I reached a hand to his hip and the other clasped around his shaft, slowly teasing him with my touch as he began to arch forward into my hand. 

“Quit teasing, Y/N.” He warned.

“You’re so responsive and desperate for it, how could I not?” 

“Because I’m not going to be so nice when we get back to the hotel if you keep it up.” 

I felt his hands reach up to my shoulders and push them down while I lowered down onto my knees obediently. Taking a moment to mess with him just once more, I made sure to stare up at him with the look in my eyes that I knew always drove him mad. His fingers pressed along back of my head and pulled me closer, until my nose touched against the bristled hair that trailed down his lower abdomen. Message received, loud and clear – I was playing with a bonfire that would consume me entirely if I didn’t quell it.

Quickly, I repositioned myself directly before him with a hand on his hip and the other circled around his shaft. My tongue licked a stripe from the base up to his tip in preparation before diving right in, taking him into my mouth completely and hollowing out my cheeks. The singer erupted in a loud groan of finally receiving the type of attention he was looking for, his head rolling back with eyes shut and lips parted. I craned and arched my neck to bob along his length, a cacophony of moans slipping between his swollen pink lips. 

But my languid pace wasn’t fast enough as voices began echoing through the hall, sending a stroke of electricity through me from the prospect of being caught. Mick began to grow even more desperate too – his hands holding the back of my head in place while his hips frantically, helplessly bucked into my mouth with animosity. I could hardly breathe and I was nearly gagging at the vicious rhythm of his tip prodding down the back of my throat, only waiting it out because I knew Mick wouldn’t last much longer. My assumption had been correct as he made slower and deeper jabs into my mouth, his fingers clawing at my skin as they held me as close to his abdomen as possible. Hot spurts of sticky cum dripped into my mouth and I swallowed it all as he stepped back, withdrawing himself entirely. 

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I stood back up beside him and helped him fix his belt buckle back into place over his buttoned pants. He took my hand, reaching for the doorknob to let us out and flipping the light switch off. I followed along behind him as my eyes took a second to adjust to the brighter lights out in the hallway, seeing the rest of the boys lining up at the end of it with the whole entourage – the cars must’ve been ready to take everyone to our hotel for the night. Mick and I joined them, walking side-by-side with him delivering a sweet peck on my cheek.

He took the proximity as an opportunity to whisper his gratitude to me: “You did so well, I’ll have to return the favor once we’re alone again.” 

I flashed him a mischievous smile as he squeezed my hand and we left the venue.


	95. between the bookshelves (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's a librarian  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "First I want to thank you for all of the time and effort you put into writing such great stories!! Seeing a new post by you makes my day💙 Second I was wondering if you could maybe write something about Jimmy and a shy female librarian? It can be as NSFW as you’d like or just suggestive/fluff. Thank you so much!!"

I’d put on a quiet record as I reorganized the new and returned books into their rightful place, the library not quite closed yet but no one really interested in being here so late. The quietness of the library was comforting, a lot better for someone like me compared to chatting people up in a shop or café. My mind reminisced over the people who visited earlier: the book club that quietly met in the one corner every Saturday afternoon, children who came to flip through pretty illustrations, the few patrons enthusiastic about specific authors or genres, students tiredly asking about one subject or another, other curious minds that loved to just sit and learn about everything they could. They all could be part of a painting or their own stories, like all the distinct strangers that show up at a coffee shop routinely. 

My back was slightly sore and my feet were tired from standing or walking around all day, but I couldn’t just sit down when I only had seven more to put away. I hummed along to the songs to cheer myself up from the sleepiness starting to catch up to me. Unfortunately, each of them belonged on a completely different shelf and I had to skirt through the various rows of chairs or shelves to find their exact places. At least I’d have tomorrow off to sleep in, work on my own housekeeping tasks, maybe go for a walk if the weather permitted…

The mundane train of thought was suddenly interrupted when someone cleared their throat from somewhere behind me. I jumped slightly and turned to face the stranger, only to find someone who certainly wasn’t a stranger standing there with a falsely unassuming expression and his hands in his pockets. A smile helplessly made its way onto my face in greeting but I waited for what was surely going to be an amusing remark from him.

“Excuse me, miss, where would I find the art history section?” 

“Follow me and I’ll show you, sir.” I played along, my grin only getting wider as I tried to bite it back.

He kept up with my footsteps down through the maze of bookshelves until I got back to the taller rows of historic records and pointed to his desired section, knowing he likely didn’t actually care to look through the books at this moment.

“So resourceful.” He praised. “May I see that one, all the way up there?” 

I was slightly surprised at his request but went to retrieve the stepladder to reach the book he seemed to be pointing at. My first guess was incorrect, so my visitor pointed a bit more to the side until I had to lean all the way over to reach it – a bit of an inconvenience when wearing a pencil skirt as per a traditional librarian uniform. When he finally affirmed that I grabbed the right book, I carefully stepped down with it in hand and placed it into his. 

“Yes, that was exactly what I was looking for. Thank you, darling.” 

“Anything else I can help you with?” 

“No, I’m terribly sorry to have barged in here so late. I think a proper gesture of gratitude is in order.” 

“It really wasn’t any trouble…” I assured modestly, glancing up at him only at the very end of my sentence.

With two steps, he had maneuvered me back against the tall bookshelves with a hand gently tracing along the side of my face and standing barely a foot away from me. The book was placed on an empty shelf and forgotten for the time being. This position was hardly unfamiliar to me, but not this setting and under the context of waiting months to see each other again. There was a new excitement and almost carelessness towards other concerns when we were finally back together in one room. I doubted anyone else would come in here and, frankly, I didn’t pay any mind to it at the moment when all I wanted was him to keep going.

His lips just barely feathered over mine and I leaned in further to try deepening it, going slow when I was this impatient seeming like plain torture. My hands were grasping onto the shelves behind me for stability when he yielded to my wishes and more than delivered. It almost caused a dull pain, like a bruise, from the pressure and I gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to venture his tongue into my mouth. The normally cool room now felt stiflingly hot and I would’ve moved to unbutton my shirt if I hadn’t been clutching onto the shelves so tightly. 

But I had to break away, take a second to catch my breath and regain my balance. Now my hand reached for the top two buttons and undid them with ease as he looked back smiling at my flustered state. That self-assured expression made me weak in the knees and a pulse of electricity shoot through my veins.

I shook my head at him as I leaned my frame back and confessed: “Oh I’ve definitely been missing you, Jimmy.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, love… and I’ve been missing my cute, clever little librarian not being at my side.” 

Jimmy’s hands fixed themselves over my waist and coaxed my frame up against his, my arms looping around his neck. His touch lingered lower, sliding up the hem of my skirt until his fingers brushed up my bare thigh up to the laced edge of my panties. I gave him a questioning look about continuing in here and he convinced me with the slow movement of his hand reaching across then down over my clothed center. My lips grazed along his cheek while he was preoccupied with his fingertips’ exploration just beneath the thin, damp fabric. 

“Now I can really tell how much you’ve been missing me.” He teased, slowly tracing his finger along my folds and gathering their wetness over them.

“O-Oh, Jimmy, that feels so good…” I whimpered quietly against his cheek. 

He provoked me further, trying to edge me into being more vocal as his fingers delved into me and curled into just the right spot. My body was luckily still propped up by the bookshelf as I arched and squirmed at his touch, amazed at how Jimmy could elicit this reaction from me with such ease. A wave of pooled arousal washed over my abdomen when he knelt down, his free hand holding onto my thigh to keep them parted and swiping his tongue over his lips. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and sampled the glistening liquid over them while staring right back up at me. I combed my hands into his disheveled hair as he leaned closer towards me, tugging the panties to the side with a finger while his velvet tongue curled over just where his fingers had been. He hummed in approval while I desperately tried to stay still for him. 

“Ji-Jimmy, oh my go… please don’t stop!” I beseeched breathily, my hands raking through his hair with desperation. 

A warm hum buzzed at his lips and into my sensitive skin, the muscles in my legs tightening yet falling limp at his stimulation. How I was still standing was a miracle, his slow touches torturously building me up to a high but prolonging the process so everything felt much more heightened. Jimmy, luckily or unluckily, drew back from me with the glistening wetness that’d been on his fingers was now over his chin and lips. He flashed a victorious smile at seeing the profound effect he had on me as I caught my breath.

“That was a very warm welcome back home.” He quipped, rising up from his kneeling position.

I laughed lightly, fixing my disarrayed clothes back over me somewhat neatly. 

“Glad I could help you find the book you were looking for.”

“And past closing time, such a generous girl.” He remarked.

A beat passed and the playful tone wore off, his hand reaching for mine while I set to performing all the closing procedures for the library. He followed along and helped where he could, both of us happily observing that no one else had entered the building while we had our fun between the back shelves. Just the recent memory of it made my face flush hot, having someone else catch us would’ve been mortifying. Though I was sure Jimmy might’ve gotten a kick out of something like that.

I turned to face him after locking the doors behind us, shivering slightly in the cool night air: “You know, I really did miss you all that time. We’re both fairly quiet but it’s so different being home when you’re gone. No one’s around to go on and on about whatever art form’s struck your fancy in the moment or to be strum new melodies out for at least four hours.” 

He smiled softly in the streetlamp light, “Shall I take you with me next time? I missed you too and perhaps that could solve two problems at once.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder as he walked me along to my car, “Maybe.” 

“That’s something we can figure out when there is a new tour being scheduled. For now, I have you all to myself and can catch up on all that time I didn’t have with you.”


	96. casual affair pt. 2 (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '71 jimmy page x fem!reader   
> Warnings: nsfw and cheating but kind of less so??

request: "heeyyy eric clapton's girlfriend pt2? thank youu i really appreciate your work, your writing is so good and kinda ethereal"

It was foolish of me to think that I could somehow refrain from returning to Jimmy’s room. I made up all kinds of excuses for myself – sleeping more soundly with him there, feeling safer with another person in the room, his room being warmer than mine – and the guilt seemed to have faded away completely after a few days. Except when Eric called. That was when I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to be a lot more faithful to him than I was and I really shouldn’t be doing this. All because of my cursed curiosity, inability to control myself, and a very charming host who certainly didn’t help. 

The thoughts would rush through my brain the entire time Eric would talk to me over the phone and I’d only be able to give him short replies because I thought saying too much more might give it away. He sometimes noticed and asked if I was feeling alright, only to receive an instant brush-off. My stomach churned as I wondered what the hell I was going to do about all this, at least until the call was well over and Jimmy managed to distract me again – the cycle continued onwards.

“Why d’you look so glum, darling? It’s only nine in the morning and you already look like you’ve gone through a rough day.” Jimmy remarked, his fingertips brushing along my cheek as we laid in his bed together.

“Just thinking.” 

“What about?” He smiled softly. 

I looked at him and sighed, taking in his angelic appearance in the morning light. A soft pink hue tinted his ivory pallor from the blanket’s warmth wrapped around him, the vivid pale green of his eyes sparkled like dewdrops on the grass of a springy meadow, his rosy lips looked so soft, the sunlight made his raven waves shine with a dark bronze glint… I was screwed. 

“You… and Eric.” 

“Oh.”

His expression changed, the curve of his lips sunk, and he looked pensive.

“Look, Jimmy, I’ve had it on my mind for a while and I know it’s all my fault… but I just don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t be messing around with you and I feel guilty for it whenever Eric calls, but I can’t stop it. It’s like I lose my reasoning and just follow a foolish whim until I wake up and realize I shouldn’t be doing it. With you… I never get bored, even though we’re just staying here, and it’s so much… I don’t know… deeper? More exciting? Than anything I’ve ever remembered feeling with him.” 

He was chewing on his lip with his eyes fixed down at the blanket as he listened to my rambling. As I fell silent, his eyes finally met mine again.

“It’s not my decision to make and all I’m going to do is convince you to stay. I don’t want you to go, I’m glad you return my affection… but unless you want me to argue for myself, it’s best you don’t listen to me on this.”

I groaned in frustration and helplessly muttered: “Then please convince me. And then help me figure out what to do about Eric, how to let him down gently. And when did you decide to be so fair?”

He cracked a smile, “You want me to be a total ass? Well, I’ll start by saying I told you so because I knew you wouldn’t just let it go like that. And that maybe you should just do what you actually want to do instead of what you ‘should’ be doing.” 

“That was asinine? What a philosopher you must normally be, Mr. Page.” 

His eyes twinkled as he grinned wider, the arms wrapped around me pulled me closer so he could plant his lips to my forehead. I bowed my head to grant him easier access, accidentally granting him a moment of my distraction to shift himself over me and trapping me beneath him. The ends of his long hair tickled my face and I pointlessly, weakly, tried to push him off as his lips fixed themselves over my neck. One of his hands branched over it too, lightly adding pressure over my neck in a way that was no longer unfamiliar to me. 

I realized just how much I’d learned about him in the past several weeks. Tiny little idiosyncrasies, odd thoughts that would come to him out of nowhere, his fascination with particular art styles, tidbits about the new music he was working on aside from hearing it, how he liked to be in control of everything, his ever-growing collection of records, his experience in studios, things that drove him absolutely mad, his philosophical approach to many aspects of his life, the friendly yet mystically cryptic aura about him. And I learned a bit about myself, Jimmy being my guide in many matters as I explored different things.

The delectable, heavenly sound that came from deep in his throat roused me out of the depths of my mind and into the present. My fingers curled into his hair, clutching him closely and coaxing him to continue. I looked at him through lidded eyes, seeing his drifting across whatever part of me he chose to dedicate his attention to.

“I don’t think I could let you go no matter what your dear Eric would do to keep you.” He confessed in a whisper, his lips brushing down over my collarbones and trailing lower by every torturous second.

“Then don’t let me go. I certainly don’t want you to.”

“Good, because now I can mark you up any way I like, and he won’t have a right to complain about it.”

A heat rippled through my bloodstream as I gave up any semblance of resistance, the arrangement sorted out and no guilt to act as friction when this inevitably escalated per Jimmy’s whim. But my surrender wasn’t passive – I was more than happy return his blistering fire and provide whatever encouragement he wanted to feel or see or hear. There was no need to hold back anymore. I would break it off with Eric the very next time he called and stay here even when he got back. The temptation would be permissible to pursue and limitless as long as both of us were together.

“Do anything you want.” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear as his teeth sank lightly into the skin at the base of my neck.

“I plan to, Y/N.” He assured, leaving an open-mouthed kiss over the sore spot to soothe it just before rising from the warmth beneath the blanket. 

I propped myself up and stared at him, staggered at the loss of contact. My eyes followed his lanky frame walking to the far dresser and leaning down to reach for the elegant handle of a drawer, his hands rifling underneath the clothes tucked in there. He hid the object behind his back when he turned to face me and I had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t going to be as mild with his interests as he had been before, given the especially dark twinkle in his eyes. 

But he didn’t restrain me at all once he was at my side again. His hands didn’t even catch my wrists to hold over my head, nor did he exert any other form of control over me. The tide had turned in our dynamic – this was no longer completely illicit and not just me submitting to my foolish folly or to my host’s kindness. I was still a guest to Jimmy but not one that had to leave at the end of the month nor one that had to stay as out of the way as possible. Oddly, it felt more equal and freer. I thought perhaps that was why he chose not to impose his usual control over me.

“What’ve you got behind your back?” I implored.

“Well I thought you’d come to your senses at some point…” He trailed off, revealing an ornate little box in his hand. “It’s no ring brought over from a foreign country, but it is somewhat tailored to you.”

I gave him an exasperated look at his comment and reached for the box curiously, opening it to find a little silver coin-like pendant with a zig-zagged constellation engraved into the thin layer of metal and tiny little diamonds to represent stars. There was a little round gemstone hanging on the silver chain too, one that I recognized as my birthstone. My words failed me as I tried to find a means to genuinely thank him for the thoughtful, albeit unnecessary, gift and I wondered how he managed to get this behind my back since we were together almost all the time.

“Wh- How did you… What I mean to say is thank you, this is very kind of you.” I fumbled out a sentence.

“It’s nothing at all. This part has your birth sign constellation and it came with your birthstone.” He explained while removing it carefully from the box and fastening it around my neck. “Suits you perfectly.”

“Can I take it off? I don’t want to rip this delicate chain or have anything happen to it.” 

“I’ll be gentle, you just have to do exactly as I say.” He directed, leaning over to kiss the spot just above where the pendant rested over my chest.

His lips drifted up higher, to the very base of my neck and took the skin between his teeth, nipping then kissing away the stinging pain. I sucked in a breath through my gritted teeth as he kept at it, biting down harder then sucking at the skin hard enough to form a bruise and his fingers toying with the silver chain. My arms loosely wrapped around his neck, holding him closer to me. I dug my fingers through his hair, tangling through it and tugging while my other hand scratched at his back when he happened to nip down harder at my neck. But this halted his process. He parted from me and gave me a stern look, my lungs heaving through my chest as I looked back at him in confusion.

“What?” 

“I didn’t say you could touch me. You keep your hands to yourself, without anything else to help you. I’ll give you a reward if you can follow that simple little order.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“You’re a clever girl, and I’m sure you have enough experience to make an accurate guess.”

I nodded in understanding, tucking my arms behind my back so I wouldn’t be tempted and pleadingly fixing my eyes onto his. His blistered fingertips brushed along the new bruise at the base of my neck, noting my wince at the sore spot. Jimmy leaned back over me with his mouth working the same process at my collarbones, his gossamer hint of a touch lingering over the bare skin of my sides. I whined quietly and arched up towards him helplessly which gave him nothing but a satisfied smirk pressing against my bruising skin as he continued on.

His path meandered over my exposed skin and exhilarated my pulse that rushed lightning fast through my veins, my heart thumping in my chest so strongly that I thought he might hear it. My neck received three marks and my collarbones received two each. He drifted along to my chest, happily taking his time over the especially sensitive skin to tempt an uncontrollable reaction from me unsuccessfully. It took everything in me to resist the impulse. Each bruise stung dully after he moved on to the skin over my ribs, at my stomach, on my upper thighs, along my hips, and back up to my neck.

By the time he had finished with this tormenting endeavor, I was sure that I looked like a leopard with all the little spots where his mouth had been dotting over my skin. He certainly made good on his threat and I, luckily, managed to follow his instructions against every desire screaming in my mind to grasp onto something or pull him closer. With one featherlight kiss to my lips, Jimmy drew back with an impressed quirked brow and a smile lingered over his features.

“Very good.” He remarked.

“What’s my reward?” I grinned.

“Patience, love, I always make good on my promises. And I’ll let you choose to do whatever you wish.” 

“Anything?” I questioned in surprise. 

He nodded as his hand caressed the side of my thoughtful face. Oh, all the ideas that poured into my head made it hard to begin. I had imagined in the days prior what it might be like to take charge just once with him and make him squirm at my will with that angelic, rosy-cheeked, fucked out expression on his face. Just the thought of it then sent me into a frenzy at the prospect of seeing it before me in reality from my own actions. That torment was more than worth this opportunity.

“Lie down, Jimmy.” I directed, propped up on my elbows and flipping onto my stomach over his reclining form.

“I can tell you’ve been looking forward to something like this.” 

“You haven’t the faintest idea. Now, relax for me.” I began, raking one hand spread over the top of his thigh while the other circled around the base of his shaft.

My tongue flicked out of my parted lips like the curled lap of a flame, just barely tracing over an inch of his length. His eyes remained fixed on me while I kitten-licked up the backside to the ridge of his tip, eliciting a deep hum buzzing in his throat. My teasing pattern continued as I only took his tip into my mouth and occasionally arched my neck to plant wet kisses all the way down. If I glanced up at him, his breath seemed to catch in his lungs and I could already see a warm blush over his cheeks as his eyes fell hooded. His hands clutched onto the sheets when I finally held my breath and took him as deep into my throat as I could. 

“Shiiiiittt, if you don’t stop that now- ”

I slipped my mouth right off, making him groan at the sudden lack of contact and regret his words the minute he uttered them.

“Not like that.” He whined.

“Who’s in charge again, Jimmy?” 

“You, but don’t fucking do that.”

I grinned at his snappy, desperate attitude. He was exactly where I wanted him and I’d give him a little more tastes of his own medicine before getting up onto his lap. I decided to start by returning his favor and marking up his porcelain skin in places only I would see. Jimmy gave me a sharp look when I bit lightly over his chest, realizing exactly what I was doing but letting me have my turn playing with him. It was like covering a canvas with splotches of purple-grey watercolors while Jimmy winced every so often and sucked in air through his teeth. His hands reached to smooth over my backside, grasping at the flesh like a brace against my actions as I leaned over him.

Finally satisfied with the look the few marks I littered across his pale torso; I kept my impatience at bay with one final act. I hovered over his lap, feeling him pressed up against my thigh and bent over to connect our swollen lips. We were chest-to-chest, our heated skin blazing upon contact and at the dizzying kiss. His arms circled around and met just above my rear, adding a weight to pull me lower and finally give him what he wanted, but I resisted. My lips brushed to the side, falling down along his jaw and the smooth curve of his neck in a trail that led down to his hips. His stomach tensed when I reached it, growing tauter as I went lower and lower. I stopped at the bristled thatch of black hair that marked a path to where he wanted me most, shifting back to my original position over his lap and indulging him at a dangerously slow pace. 

My head fell back as I sank down centimeter by centimeter with my hands reaching back at his legs for support. The achingly gradual stretch made it impossible for me to keep my eyes open and hold back any sounds that I tried to stifle in my throat. I felt Jimmy’s eyes on me when I cried out loudly upon finally taking all of him within me, my forehead wrinkled and my mouth parted in a silent scream. The air had been knocked out of my lungs as I took a moment to adjust, very slightly beginning to roll my hips forward and back over his lap. His head fell back against the headboard, expression of blissful anguish matching mine as he whispered vulgar encouragements to me and dug his fingers into the flesh of my ass, trying to speed up my crawling pace. The feeling of his hands trying to regain control broke me out of my daze and I smacked them away, working up a smooth rhythm myself. 

“Fuck, I should’ve let you do this sooner. You’re quite a sight like this, darling.” 

A wicked smile curled my lips when I circled my hips around harder, “I was hoping you’d say that. Although this is very mild compared to what you do to me… maybe I’ll have to tie you up or use some kind of device to make you an absolute wreck beneath me.”

“Very mouthy.” He remarked in a strained tone. 

I wrapped a hand loosely around his pale throat, applying only a light pressure as I made my threatening rebuttal: “Careful or I might start right now.”

He pursed his lips and gave me a stone cold look, breaking it the moment I rolled my hips over him once again. My teasing had worked him up quite a bit up to this point and his desperation only grew, his hips arching up to meet my rhythm while his nails dug into the small of my back. His parted lips grazed over the curve of my breasts and up along my jaw as sweat beaded along my temples. I was starting to get close and my louder, despairing whimpers signaled it to him too. He reached a hand back down below my abdomen, his talented fingers circling over the ache between my legs until my thighs were neatly trembling and I could barely move over his lap with the oncoming burst of pleasure building up, tensing from inside.

“C’mon, love, let go for me.” He spoke softly, his wondrous eyes staring up at me.

“I- Jimmy, please… I- fuck!” I stuttered out through my frazzled mind focused solely on one thing and Jimmy’s name being the only clear thing coming from my mouth. 

“That’s it, Y/N… good girl,” He groaned as I clenched around him and waves of humming ecstasy washed over me, only pushing him over the edge with a sticky heat surging into me. 

Both of us crashed, leaning in towards each other with heaving lungs and sweat glistening over our blazing skin. A satisfied smile was set into my lips as I ventured a kiss over his shoulder, brushing back his disheveled hair from his flushed face. His breath was slowing back into its normal tempo, and I noticed his heartbeat did too while I rested my head right over his chest with the now-warm pendant of my necklace between us. It was always exhilarating, a clever little game in our minds that pushed each other to do just as we internally wished. I loved it this way, and only now did I begin to remember that I’d have to formally break it off with Eric. 

“Seems that we’ll require a shower after such an… energetic start to the day.” Jimmy suggested.

“Wonderful idea. And then afterwards I’ll have to call up Eric.”

“So quickly?”

“Yeah, just getting it out of the way.”

He made a faux-grimace, “Remind me not to propose to you. Seems to be bad luck.”

I playfully swatted his chest, “You’re just a very wicked, tempting man.”

“Of course, casting spells over ladies, and especially those already in relationships, is my favorite pastime.” 

“Fantastic, can you tell him that’s what you did?”

He chuckled, “I prefer you tell him that he’s too boorish for you and not as good as I am.”

“In what respect?”

“Oh, everything. Guitar-playing, band-forming, love-maki- ”

I scoffed, “Only if you show me your old paintings.”

Jimmy gave me a horrified look and reconsidered immediately: “I’ll go buy a spell book and wizard cap to really sell it.”

“Good.” I laughed, playing with his hair. “Now how about that shower?”


	97. wait until tomorrow (robert plant x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!robert plant x reader  
> Warnings: none
> 
> as some of you might know, my original tumblr was deleted for some reason so my new tumblr user is @lady-jane-revisited

request: asked by @janisgoblin on tumblr for some old man robert fluff

There was no denying that he was magnetic up on that stage, fifty years-worth of experience and practice being shown off to the lucky audience. His dance moves had changed a bit but remained just as suggestive as they were at any other point of his performance career. He howled into the microphone with his incredible voice or while blowing soulfully into a harmonica, his eyes shut in complete focus. I could never look away for a second even though I’d seen the show at least fifteen times in the past few months. He would flash everyone a cheerful smile every night then rush over to my side, an arm instinctively cloaked over my shoulders the minute he was at my side. 

Tonight was no different, though I could tell all the touring and past few days of not-really-sleeping were catching up to him. He flashed the same dazzling smile at me as we walked backstage, but I noticed that there was a weariness around his eyes and lingering over his features. I’d have to convince him to take it easy and relax for the night rather than stay up celebrating or visiting people, nor wake up early to go explore the city. My hand found his and remained clasped together all the way through the car ride back to the nearby hotel.

“Robert, darling?” I began sweetly.

“Uh-oh.” He quipped. “I know that tone of yours, ‘Y/N darling’, and I’m not sure I want to hear the next part.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled, “All I’m going to say is that you should have some rest. You’re getting tired and you haven’t slept more than three hours at a time over the last week.”  
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, then he nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Upon our arrival at the hotel and after a short elevator ride up to the room, I ordered him to take a warm bath in the luxurious bathroom, earning a fake groan of frustration from the singer. Candles lined the bathtub and there was a little kit of aromatic things in jars also meant for the bath. I pilfered through them, holding up bottles of rose-scented potions and salts to my nose while a belt buckle tinkled as it unlatched right behind me. A familiar, warm hand smoothed along my back and coaxed me away from the items I discovered. 

“Won’t you join me, Y/N?” Robert’s soft voice beseeched in a tone that was simply impossible to refuse.

Within the beat of a butterfly’s wings, I’d lifted my t-shirt up off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor with my jeans following suit. He took out a lighter to make all the candles comfortingly glow in the dim lighting before beckoning me over to him. The moon shone blurry through the translucent window right by the tub as his arms wrapped around my torso from behind me and I leaned back to rest my head on his broad chest. His familiar scent combined with the sweeter fragrance of roses and steamy water eased all the tension in my body, just as I hoped it was for him. I felt his fingers brush my hair off to the side while he nestled his chin over my shoulder and pressed a brief kiss to my neck. 

“I want to sing something for you at the next show, just for you.” He informed.

My heart swelled at such a proposition, but I still tried hiding my building sentiment: “Really? And what song would that be?”

“You’ll find out. I may have snooped through your phone and saw what you’d been listening to. And I’ve got a wonderful memory.”

I smiled softly, a slight sheen forming over my eyes as I replied: “I don’t wholly approve of the snooping, but that’s very kind of you – I’m looking forward to it already.”

Another peck to the curve of my neck. “It’s the very least I can do for my personal nurse, making sure I don’t get too worn out touring. Although, you sometimes contribute to some of the, ah, energy-expending activities.”

My head turned to face him as I chuckled lightly, “I don’t always initiate it so I can’t be entirely to blame.”

“Fair point, honey, fair point.” He nodded, his shining blue eyes gazing down over me the way people observe art pieces and rendering me speechless. “What do you say to wandering the city tomorrow? In the afternoon, of course, if the weather permits.” 

“Sure. Have you been here before? Or rather, do you know any places you want to see?”

“No, I was just going to ask you the same thing. I suppose we’ll just have to be aimless and stop in wherever we like, completely spontaneous.” 

“Well not too spontaneous, you still have a show to do tomorrow night too.” 

He planted his lips to my forehead, “Of course, where would I be without you? You seem to make a lovely secretary too.” 

“You’d have to listen to the tour manager a bit more.” I quipped. 

“You’re far less harsh-sounding when you order me around, maybe you should take the job.” 

“I’m not sure I’d want to manage all this touring; it’s a difficult job and you’d be too much of a distraction for me to get any work done.” 

He embraced me closer and smoothed a hand over the top of my head with an easy smile across his lips. The cloudy warmth of the water cooled all too soon and we slipped into matching hotel robes, sitting over the bed with room service refreshments as the quiet conversation continued on. We talked about which places we most liked visiting and where else we wished to go visit, perhaps as a vacation after this tour was over. He chuckled at a recent memory of a chance encounter where he bumped into an old friend back in Dallas. I reminded him of the bushel of lemons that’d been thrown onto the stage collectively over the nights that he performed in California. Time passed by fluidly so by the time we’d run out of refreshments and our stomachs hurt from laughing at rather funny instances, our eyes were barely remaining open. My mission was accomplished, I realized, as we were curled around one another, and my eyes drifted to the nearby alarm clock only reading a quarter past midnight.


	98. maybe (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: none

request: asked for silver fox!jimmy with reader, set up on a blind date

From any experiences I heard about blind dates, I had plenty of reasons to be nervous. The worst part was that my old friend wouldn’t tell me a single thing about the man he paired up with me. Well besides the fact that he would be just “my type”, whatever the hell that meant. As I rifled through my closet and ruffled a hand through my hair, I couldn’t help but wonder about what he’d be like. Hopefully not a dreadful bore, or someone who got bored after a month or so, or someone who talked down to other people. And all the forces in the world would have to hold me back if he was terribly rude to other people, purposely or ignorant of it. At that point, I would certainly slip away early before I could burst on him. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

I had to get going, I realized with a glance down at my phone screen. One last look over my reflection and I was ready. My heart was thumping hard against my chest while I walked down the streets, navigating my way around to the given rendezvous point mentioned in a text message from my friend. We’ll have to see if he was still my friend after this ordeal, I thought to myself as I turned the corner and found myself at a fairly posh-looking restaurant. My nerves were taken aback for a moment as I stepped inside slowly, circling my head around my surroundings as subtly as I could. The lighting was comfortably dim and large, though slightly plain, murals over the sleek, dark walls in the expansive dining space.

“Pardon me, but is your name Y/N?” A kind voice asked from behind me. 

When I turned around, I was ready to curse my friend for keeping this big of a secret away from me. It only took me a split second to recognize the man asking my name and my beating heart suddenly stood still when all the dots connected in my head. This was like a dream, like maybe I fell asleep worrying about this blind date and dreamed up the most ideal version of what could happen. But when the world began to move around me again and I felt a far too realistic, blazing heat spreading over my cheeks, I knew this wasn’t a dream.

I cleared my throat bashfully, “Yeah. That’s me.”

“Wonderful to meet you. My name’s Jimmy.” He said with an extended hand to me. 

I shook it, hoping that he couldn’t tell that my nerves were running rampant through my veins. 

“I’m afraid you need no introduction, though I’m surprised that we somehow have a mutual friend.” I informed him. 

He nodded in understanding and beckoned me further inside, a hostess leading us through the maze of tables far from the majority of people but right up close to a window looking out at the passersby. My thoughts were full of reminders: sit up with a good posture, figuring out which fork was for which kind of dish, different topics of conversation, and most definitely holding back the fanatic impulses. Glasses of water were promptly provided as well as a couple of menus, the server insisting that we let them know if there was anything we needed. I took a sip of the cool water, grateful for the relief from the nervous heat pulsing through me. My eyes quickly scanned through the menu and easily caught sight of something suitable, looking back up to the shining eyes of the man sitting across from me with his hands folded before him at the edge of the tabletop.

“You look absolutely radiant, Y/N, though I must say you seem a bit anxious. Relax.” He insisted with a caring smile.

Oh this was becoming too much, and it had only been ten minutes. The rest of the evening felt daunting, to say the least.

I sighed out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Thank you, Jimmy. And sorry, I’m just not used to these kinds of things. I don’t do this often.”

“I understand. Believe me, I don’t do these sorts of things often either.” He chuckled lightly. “So, what do you do frequently?”

My wall of restraint slowly started chipping down with his reassuring nods and smiles while he listened to me, I mentally took note of how attentive he seemed. I spoke on about my occupation, activities I enjoyed doing in my spare time, preferences in books or music, my surprise at his tastes lining up with my own. He spoke so eloquently as he expanded on all sorts of topics over dinner, revealing details about himself that I’d never heard before and I instinctively committed to memory. It was fascinating to hear while I warded off foolish sentiments of proximity with him, somehow feeling like there was a deeper sort of connection that had been there long before this evening. Or I was just too excitable.

Even after I finished with my dinner and he did his, the lively conversation flowed on as the sun made its descent over the horizon. My eyes lingered momentarily to take in the lush array of colors streaking brightly through the cloudless expanse above the city, more pedestrians now passing through the sidewalks than before. I looked back immediately when I noticed a sudden hush in conversation. Jimmy had his gaze observantly fixed on my visage as I blinked in confusion, wondering why he halted his narrative on mandolin-playing and how it was comparable to his main instrument of choice.

“What?” 

“Nothing, you just seem to enjoy people-watching.”

“Oh, I was just taking a quick look at the sky. The colors caught my eye and, well I guess it seems silly since the sun sets every day, but it never looks quite the same. People are interesting too sometimes, just the things we all do when we’re in our heads and not thinking that anyone’s seeing little inflections on our expressions or turning around the street because we were going the wrong way.”

“You must find inspiration in everything.” He remarked.

“Well I wouldn’t call it inspiration, but there’s beauty in a lot of things and it’s nice not to ignore it even if it happens often enough.”

A grin started to form over his lips, “The way you talk about it certainly sounds like it inspires you.”

“How so? I’m just horrible at explaining things off the top of my head concisely.” 

He shook his head, “I don’t believe that for a second. It was a… a stream of consciousness, if you like, of how you responded towards what you saw. Which only proves my point that you were indeed inspired.” 

I slowly nodded, my eyes meeting his as I made a conceding reply: “Alright, I suppose you’re right. I’ve just never really considered it that way.”

“It’s a lovely outlook to have – finding something that strikes your muse just by looking out the window. Lends itself to an artistic nature and it’s freeing since you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything complicated to be able to create something.”

“Do you have the same outlook?”

He grew more pensive, “No. I’m afraid my process usually wasn’t quite so… simple. At least, not when it involves a very personal project.”

“That makes sense; you want it to turn out perfect and have it become something that you’re proud of.” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

The conversation lulled again, myself thinking of this revelation about myself that Jimmy brought to my attention while he looked equally as thoughtful from the opposite side of the table. I didn’t want to prod at all, I hoped that my inquiry didn’t make him think that I was trying to pry into his past as an information source for classic rock trivia rather than seeing him as a human being. That was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. Well shit, at least I tried… and I could only apologize to see if he’d let go of the misunderstanding. 

“I’m sorry if I- ”

“Sorry? What for?” He wrinkled his brows, a disbelieving hint of a smile on his face.

“I- I thought you might’ve taken my question as prying into something that wasn’t my business, which wasn’t at all my intention.”

“Not at all, I was just thinking about how you didn’t start interviewing me at any point even though we’ve been sitting here and talking for…” He checked the watch around his wrist. “…three hours.”

“Three hours? Really?” 

“Time flies when you’re having fun?” He offered.

“I suppose it does. I just have to wake up early tomorrow and get started on my work so, unfortunately, I’ll have to be on my way soon.”

“Pity, you’re wonderful company.” Jimmy mocked a frown. “How far away do you live?” 

“Just around the block.”

“Mind if I join your walk?” 

The hiccupping heartbeat was back, and I had to bite back a wide smile, thinking that I must’ve made a good impression on him if he cared to walk me back home. Hopefully he could tell that I very much enjoyed the evening as well, finding it to be the exact opposite of my cynical assumptions. It still felt very much like a dream in my mind and I don’t think I’d be able to process it for another week. My eyes looked across from my seat as I tried to capture the mental image into a memory I’d never forget. The dim, bronzy light glowing over his friendly face and the smoky green of his eyes and the almost glamorous wave to his shoulder-length hair and the way his lower lip always seemed to be in a pout. 

“Is that a yes or a no?” He teased.

“Sorry, please join me if you’d like. I’m just… happy, or happily surprised that it was quite the opposite of the disappointment I expected. It’s strange, but in a good way. I didn’t think my friend knew me in this regard so well.” 

“I’m not sure how complimentary that statement was.” 

I laughed with him as we stood up from the table and neatly placed the napkins from our laps up onto the tablecloth. 

“Very complimentary I promise, Jimmy.” 

“Ah, that’s what I was hoping for.” He confessed, walking at my side through the door and out onto the street.

The sky had turned a beautiful, deep sapphire blue as tiny sparkling stars dotted its expanse. Occasional headlights flashed over us and a few people passed us along the sidewalk. I stole a few glances to my side, seeing an easy cheerfulness over his profile and then noticing him looking back to me when I looked over again. A heat rose to my face again, warming it through the cool night air and I cursed my work schedule for forcing my night to end so early. I wanted to reach for his hand and lead him up with me or go wandering the streets for a while then look up at the glowing moon in her full glory during the late hours of night.

Once we arrived outside my flat building, I pivoted around and forced a smile onto my face as a façade to hide the bitterness of having to end the night now. 

“Well, I’d invite you inside, but I don’t think it would be too wise with my schedule for tomorrow.”

“Sure. I’ll only ask for your phone number then, so I don’t have to speak to you through another person or unexpectedly drop in.”

“Oh, of course! That would be great.” 

I dictated out the number and made sure he got the contact information correct, bravely leaning over to peck his cheek as a “goodnight” then backing off immediately in case that seemed too forward. My skittish reaction was received with amusement and it only made me feel more flushed. His hand reached for mine as he stepped closer and chastely planted a featherlight kiss over my lips, so impossibly faintly that I thought I might’ve dreamed that up too. But his hand grazing along the side of my face and the twinkle in his eyes that rivalled the stars convinced me otherwise. I bid him a hushed “goodnight” before stumbling through the door and up to my flat. My phone dinged with the notification of a new message the minute I stepped inside, and then I knew that I likely wouldn’t be able to sleep much tonight with all this excitement. Should’ve invited him inside and called in sick for the next morning. I unlocked my phone and checked the message from Jimmy, typing up a quick response.


	99. maybe pt. 2 (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: I received a few asking for a part two and a different one from @brianmaysbabygirl on here, so I combined them all together here

Several months had passed by since the evening we met with many long, interesting conversations and following arrangements to meet up again. I knew from the very first moment that it would certainly be unforgettable for me, but that turned out to extend far beyond my expectations. Far more time passed than I thought I would get with him. Our conversations, whether over a text or in-person, would switch between being purely philosophical to reminiscent to debating to comical to heart-meltingly sweet to not-so-playfully teasing, and after a little while, to sinful enough that it would permanently forbid me from stepping foot onto any type of holy ground.

After about a year, he was surprisingly a lot more trusting and open about many things with me. Jimmy would bashfully reveal how incredibly knowledgeable and almost geeky he was on certain subjects, an impish smile helplessly forming over his face whenever he would show off his most cherished records or talking about a time when he met someone he admired. He was also quite generous and always offering to help or do something nice for me. I would assure him that everything was just fine and still find myself coming home from work, pleasantly surprised at a particularly thoughtful gesture from him. 

We were just crossing the two-year mark today, back at the lovely Tower House. I leafed carefully through a book discussing the history and intricacies designed into this very building, asking Jimmy questions sparingly while he flitted about his own kitchen to finish preparing the dinner he insisted on making. Occasionally, I’d look up from the thorough pages of the book just to observe the oddity of his domesticity, as I’d never quite imagined him in such a setting before. He had his hair back in a low ponytail throughout the process and I looked forward to the moment when I could reach over to gently tug it loose. It wasn’t long before this innocent train of thought ran wilder and the book before me was almost completely forgotten. 

I could tell that he was mentally talking to himself along the way with the little changes in his expression, happy with something or reconsidering an idea or thinking of additional touches. My hands wanted to pull him aside, comb through the waves in his hair, and gently frame his face or knit together at the back of his neck. My feet wanted to step right over to him and remain no more than a few inches away from him. My eyes wanted to wander over his form, to study every detail of his features until I had them committed to my memory. My lips wanted to graze over his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, his neck, his hands, and wherever else he’d grant me access. Damn, I was in deep. 

“Y/N!” He called softly, an amused expression forming when he noticed me come out of my daze. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, sorry I just got distracted.” 

“I can tell.” He looked pointedly to the book in front of me, now flipped closed with some of my fingers still trapped between pages.

As I slid the book off to the side, I turned back to Jimmy: “It’s your fault, you know.” 

“Oh, is it?” He inquired, facing the stove while stirring up the contents of the pot.

“Mhm, you’re a formidable distraction and my imagination only enhances that effect.” 

“Care to elaborate, love?” 

I could hear the cocky grin playing at his lips. 

“We can do better than that – actions do speak louder than words, after all. Although I’m afraid the demonstration will have to wait until you’ve shut the stove off.” 

“Fortunately, I’m nearly finished.” He stated, shortly turning the knob of the stove off and letting the pot rest for a few minutes while he came over to my side. “Now how about that demonstration?”

Shifting around in my seat to face him, I began fulfilling the very things I’d been thinking about: reaching up to the twisted tie in his hair and coaxing it off the curled ends of his hair. I placed it carelessly over the cover of the book then reached back over to comb through the soft waves and use the vantage to pull him closer so I could press my lips to his face. Jimmy was smiling as I leaned up to start at his forehead, pressing featherlight kisses in a trail down to the tip of his nose then finally landing over his lips and playfully pecking his cheek. His warm hands had encircled my torso loosely, lying flat over my back while I leaned so far forward in my seat.

“As much as I would like to see- ” Jimmy began, interrupted by my lips momentarily. “-how this continues, we should probably have dinner now, darling.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it all day, but one more.” I contended, giving him one last parting kiss and feeling his smile against me.

We sat side-by-side with two matching bouquets of flowers before us – coincidentally we had the same idea to bring the other the same exact types of flowers: red and white carnations. My choice had been purely aesthetic and partially against the cliché of roses. Jimmy, however, explained the old Victorian or even older folk meanings of them: the red ones symbolizing fascination or love while the white ones symbolized sweetness and honesty. I was simply impressed that he even knew this sort of thing and actually thought through trivial little matters like flowers when most people just chose the prettiest bunch. Changing the subject, I gushed over the incredible product of Jimmy’s work in the kitchen and confessed that I was truly astonished that he was so good at it.

“I think you’ll find I’m good at quite a few things.” He quipped with his brows raising in a very particular way that I learned to interpret by now.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that fact, Mr. Page.” 

His eyes had fallen to where my hand lied over the tabletop near my practically cleared plate, piquing my curiosity with his abrupt silence. 

“What’s on your mind?” I inquired, hoping he’d confide in me than brush aside my question.

His gaze met mine now and he steadily answered me: “Just a reoccurring idea on a related subject.”

“Care to elaborate?” I mocked him.

“With a demonstration.” 

He grinned and offered me his hand. I didn’t hesitate to take it, following him up from the table and down the hallway glowing with the slowly extinguishing rays of evening sunlight streaming in through the windows. Given the knowledge I acquired after a tour of the building as well as learned experience navigating through the house to find Jimmy, I was able to somewhat see where we were headed. Just up the stairs and around the corner to the right… and down to the end of the short hallway then through the elaborately carved wooden door to a fairly familiar room. 

I was instructed to lie down – an easy enough task and my wonder brushing away any questions of where Jimmy was going with this. My head rested over a pillow, my body lying over the formerly crease-less duvet and my hands folded together over my abdomen while my eyes followed him. He stopped and knelt down at a large, what I thought was decorative, dresser to pull open a drawer on the lower row then pilfer through it. With his back to me, I couldn’t see what it was he was reaching for but had a few predictions in my mind based on silly little rumors from years ago about his particular… interests.

A ripple of anticipation shot through my stomach when he pivoted around and approached me again, stopping right at the foot of the bed with his hands hidden behind his back so I couldn’t see what he was holding. His even, directive tone instructed me to close my eyes. I obeyed blindly, my other senses heightened as my mind had one less to focus on. A light weight dipped the bed near my feet, I heard Jimmy’s footsteps softly come closer to my side and felt his finger curl under my chin to urge my head up. The cool, smooth feeling of some kind of fabric was set over my shut eyelids and around my head, gently twisted around to secure the bind in place. 

As if there was any doubt at this point, I was completely at his whim and simply followed along with his quiet commands or the urge of his touch. I shifted to let my clothes slip right off with the tug of his hands, I kept my wrists together while he secured them over my head with another smooth twist of a scarf-like bind, I slipped my control away to him while he continued maneuvering me around as he pleased. My skin cooled at its new exposure to the cool air and I felt tiny shivers shake through me, only worsened in severity at the rising anticipation within me now that I had no way of seeing what Jimmy was doing. A cold breath blew at my abdomen and I convulsed at the sudden sensation, my legs apprehensively bending back up towards my stomach. This reaction earned me additional restraints at each of my ankles, attached to the corner bedposts so I couldn’t shift around so easily.

“Is this alright with you, Y/N?” He inquired, further off and likely studying his handiwork.

“More than alright.” I answered.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t mind going further?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Page.”

He scoffed quietly in disbelief and I could imagine the pleased look on his face as he spoke: “You catch on quickly, that will certainly work to your benefit. If this becomes too much or you don’t like something, you have to tell me or otherwise I’ll keep going. Is that clear?”

I nodded.

“Use your words, darling.”

“Yes, but are you sure this is fair? I can’t do very much for you all tied up like this.”

“It’s fair.” He assured with a character-breaking chuckle under his breath. 

The moment I’d calmed my jumpy nerves and relaxed all my muscles, I jolted at the feeling of calloused fingertips languidly skimming up my right leg then back down slightly. My body felt rigid when they finally made it up to the very last inch or so up my thigh, the teasing almost unbearable in such a state where the slightest touch tickled and electrified me. I felt like a petulant child, pouting at the inability to get their way and so terribly impatient that each minute seemed to drag on for an eternity. Quiet whimpers were already mewling between my lips and he had just barely grazed his fingers over my one leg, his hand now completely removed from me. Much more teasing past it only seemed impossible and torturous. 

I hissed through my teeth in shock when his hand reconnected to me – this time exactly where I was painfully aching for it. It felt like being scalded in the best possible way and my muscles suddenly clenched then unwound, mimicking the unsteady motion of a flickering flame, at his expert massaging. I hopelessly tugged at my restraints, only managing to arch my torso or hips up off the duvet which Jimmy put to rest with his other hand pressing me back down to take exactly what he was giving me – no relief or extra friction, as I wasn’t in charge. 

My cooperation with his authority earned me a few moments of release, that ended all too briefly with liquid silk heat lapping at the spot where his hand had been tormenting me. I wished now more than ever that he would remove the blindfold and let me watch such a salacious display – the downward tilt of his head while he leaned over me with his soft lips parted and eyes never leaving mine, his tongue working its magic accompanied by the assistance of those talented hands. Imagining it alone, though, seemed to have a similar effect on me as a quiver ran through me. Every moment of it was prolonged and drawn-out compared to the crawling motion of viscous honey pouring out from a spoon, making every little motion just that much more impactful as I grew achingly desperate for more. It was like the way that he would play sometimes: stretching the timing of a phrase until you were practically falling off the edge of your seat in anticipation before flowing into the next set of notes. As he left me unsatisfied again, his warm breath fanned over my sensitive skin and I almost screamed.

“Very good, your control is excellent and that’s deserving of a reward, isn’t it?” He taunted with a power in his usually delicate tone.

I steadied my breath before quietly adding a “thank you, Mr. Page”, figuring that it would win me more favor with him through this exhilarating, yet seemingly endless, process.

He sounded impressed as he uttered the next remark: “I should’ve tried this with you earlier, you seem to know exactly what you’re doing. And for being so cooperative, pick which restraint you want off.” 

“The blindfold.” I quickly answered.

With a single swift movement and after my eyes adjusted to the ethereal, pale gold evening light, I could see my surroundings again. My legs were kept widely parted as they lay flat over the bed, a now mostly undressed Jimmy positioned between them with one of his old scarves in hand. The sight of myself in a welcomingly vulnerable position combined with the indescribable, tempting or tempted gaze fixed over me made a pool of heat cascade down to the pit of my stomach. It was better than any sensation of dainty butterfly wings flitting within me – they had turned into tiny shooting stars colliding with each other and under my skin so strongly that I couldn’t stifle my instinctive reactions to them. I only wished that the teasing would soon come to an end or I would lose the relatively firm restraint I was able to maintain over myself up to this point. 

“Now stay still for me, Y/N.” 

A stream of yes’s flooded through my brain when I watched his hands fall to the sides of my hips as he leaned forward like a predator on the prowl, delivering the sweetest of kisses on my lips and over my rapidly beating heart before striking. His touch drifted along my skin until it curved around the underside of my thighs, grasping at me in a way that made me feel like I was falling apart in his hands. Apparently still intent on the pattern of teasing, he slowly worked to massage me while nearly making my hips buck at the heavy prod of his tip against the inner-uppermost part of my thigh. I whined between my lips, my brows arching into a peak as a silent plea for him to get on with it already. 

He leaned over me completely, aligning his hips with mine then halting as a hand came to rest over one of my scorched cheeks: “Do you need it?”

My breath crumbled in my lungs and small pearls of teardrops lined the edges of my lidded eyes as I answered with a weak “yes”.

“Make me believe it, darling.” 

A fire burned in my gaze as it flickered up to his with impatience, “Please just fuck me already. Don’t tease me anymore, I can’t take another moment of it.”

“That’s better.” He smiled, his warm hand slipping down along my jaw to rest over my throat.

A new heat spread through my veins as he eased into me – a simultaneous burning heat and ice coolness. My blistering skin was drenched in the restoring coldness of sweat, or maybe the fire burned so hot that it started to feel cold. Everything moved as though in slow motion, the initial tension tightening my muscles and the gradual letting go into the bliss of the sensation. The hushed growls, filthy remarks, and trembling exhales brushing against my face only fueled me to pull against my restraints or respond to them. As I looked up over myself, Jimmy’s expression reflected the one he’d make when being completely lost onstage, in his own element, with a hauntingly magical aura glowing around him. The sight was awe-striking, almost dazing, as I had something to do with bringing it on and a building pressure within me threatening to burst. 

Jimmy paused for a moment, barely repositioning himself at my thighs so when he continued all I could feel was a racing gush at the new contact in just the right spot and I swore I could see stars dancing in my vision. I fought against the restraints as I tried to pull my legs back together for a sliver of relief, only thrashing harder when his hand reached between them to torment me further. A sternness formed in the knitting of his brows at my uncontrollable disobedience and he removed his hand, re-placing it up against my throat with his fingers lightly pressing into the skin.

“I said to stay still. Now, you listen this time or you’ll have to deal with the consequences.” 

“Ji- Jimmy, I can’t.” I said between shattered breaths, absolutely too close to care about the repercussions of breaking all the rules of this game.

He considered for a split second before giving me exactly what I wanted, only making me regret it the whole way along. His nails raked down my sides until one hand found its place, fingers digging into my hip, while the other worked me up to release faster and his whole body driving into or against mine. I cried out shamelessly at the sudden intensity of it all, electrified by the blinding lightning that struck me in a frenzied rhythm, and urgently gasping for air to fill my burning lungs. 

“C’mon, Y/N, let go for me. I can feel that you’re almost there.” He coaxed, his swollen lips brushing at the point between my jaw and neck. 

“Oh my- fuck, Jimmy!” I exclaimed with a breathy voice, too breathless to manage a sultrier tone.

He hummed against my neck, “I’m not gonna make it much longer if you keep talking like that.”

I couldn’t help myself, whether or not he wanted me to keep calling to him, as I strung together cut off pieces of sentences consisting of curses, hums, cries, whines, groans, and pleas of his name. My own incoherent speech seemed to bring it out of him too. That beautifully sinful language we shared rose like hazy smoke from a bonfire until it quelled with the fire’s full consummation of our burned, drained bodies. So now we fell like tiny pieces of frail ash, myself completely crashing down onto the duvet with barely any strength in my muscles and Jimmy giving out over me. Sweat glistened over us and our quiet, rushed breaths filled the room in a wide contrast to the booming, wailing noise of just seconds before. A new liquid heat filled me, slicking down the very backs of my thighs as my lover carefully slipped out of me, shifting to lie down at my side while his lips delicately grazed over the skin of my shoulder and his hand caressing the side of my flushed face.

He untwined the restraints and gently helped me shift my arms back into place as the blood returned to them. I assured him I was alright and that it was just as enjoyable for me as for him after his concerns at the deep fabric imprints into my skin. He lied back beside me and just barely noticeably, I felt him speak with his mouth brushing over me every other word but too quietly for me to hear.

“What did you say, Jimmy? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

His eyes looked genuinely into mine and he took a breath before speaking, “Before I repeat my words, I’ll assure you that this isn’t a heat-of-the-moment sort of thing. I’ve been thinking this for a while but never quite got up the courage to say it… I love you, Y/N.”

My heart suddenly swelled, seemingly against my sternum and I sentimentally gushed: “Oh Jimmy, do you really mean that?”

“Of course. What’s not to love?” He smiled. “I could write a novel listing everything I adore about you and why.”

I chuckled foolishly, “I love you too, Jimmy. And I truly mean that, not just because you said it nor because I’ve been fascinated with you ages before we even met. You’re an incredible person and I can’t help myself around you, and you have this gift for making me feel things I’ve never felt before, and- I’m just speechless.”

“Told you I was good at many things.” He winked.

I felt light as a shining, color-shifting bubble floating in warm summer air. This whole thing still felt like a dream, a fairytale truly, that felt too good to be reality in such a cynical, challenging world. It was be luck or fate or some other method that I was able to seek comfort and happiness from someone like this, then somehow, miraculously, also provide that same person the very same things. I was overwhelmed again, suddenly finding the energy to pull myself over him and give him a love-drunk kiss with my hands pressed over his jaw. He returned my ferocity but still drew us apart after a few seconds passed.

“I take it you’re up for another round then?”

I rolled my eyes, leaning down for another kiss while his naughty hands grasped at my ass again and tried to get my hips to grind over his. It seemed as though neither of us was sated of each other, especially with the experimentation that lingered in both of our minds.


	100. fluff vignettes (led zeppelin x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: led zeppelin x reader  
> Warnings: none

request: "cuddle headcanons for all of them pls:)"

Jimmy  
The world was in a dreamlike silence as pure white snow gently clouded over the ground and fell from the silvery sky. I sat at the window, wrapped up in a blanket and leaning against a decorative little pillow while staring out at the peaceful scene. My attention to what I was reading had been distracted by the twirling snowflakes falling over last night’s plentiful snowfall. It made me not want to leave the house for any reason, just take in the view and enjoy the comfort of remaining at home. The Chopin record I had put on continued to play in the background as a perfect accompaniment to the setting. 

Jimmy had found me just this way when he arrived home, tiny specks of white snow nestled through his dark hair and slowly melting. He motioned for me to move aside so he could slide right in behind me and I rested my head against his shoulder while his arms came around me. I relaxed into Jimmy’s frame, smiling to myself when he leaned over to peck my cheek and pull me closer. His soft, hushed voice lulled me to sleep with its talk of business, news of his dear friends, ideas for weekend plans at home, and whatever else crossed his mind. My consciousness slipped away while his fingertip delicately traced little swirled lines along my arm and with whatever magic was in his plush lips every time he left a kiss at my temple between his sentences. 

-

Bonzo  
Our project in refinishing a sturdy, well-carved table out in front of the barn ended not a moment too soon as rain began to drizzle down over us. The clear blue sky of before was being invaded by a hazy grey blockade of clouds that were beginning to shield away the sunlight. We hastily lifted and carried the table back under cover in the barn, making sure that it would be perfectly safe on the relatively level ground there. The cool spring rainstorm was worsening, forcing us to dash back into the house as quickly as we could manage with surprised laughs on our lips and our arms cloaked over the other’s back. 

I set at starting a fire to warm us from the downpour of cold raindrops now soaked into our hair and thin clothes, lighting it with a clever little trick that John endlessly asked me to teach him. His hand haphazardly smoothed over the top of my head as he sat down beside me on the rug, pulling me closer in a big bear hug so we’d both warm up faster. The rain pattered like tiny hammers against the windows as the sky darkened with storm clouds and thunder distantly rumbled. He softly sang an old bluesy song to me at my request while his hand patted down my back and my chin rested against his shoulder. 

-

Jonesy  
Birds tweeted their cheerful songs from somewhere beyond the initial line of the forest, the archaically beautiful sounds of nimbly plucked lute strings capturing my ears instead while I scrawled at the unlined pages of my journal with a pencil. The air was crisper than the previous month, though still quite warm for September and we decided to spend the afternoon out in the garden. John sat atop the curve of a slight hill with the delicate instrument in his lap and a leather-bound book of yellowing sheet music at his feet. I worked at my own creative outlets, almost lost in what the motion of my pencil and the circling tune of Jonesy’s music. 

But I instantly noticed when he’d stopped, gently placing the lute over a cushioned chair before padding over to where I was seated and positioning himself at my side. His eyes peeked over my shoulder to see what I’d been so busy with while his arm draped lowly over the small of my back, a genuine compliment whispered against the shell of my ear based on his observations. I put the journal down then shifted around so we faced each other and ruffled a hand through his hair before leaning in to kiss just the very tip of his nose, earning an amused chuckle as he pulled me closer with our foreheads leaning against each other. Our arms encircled the other’s form while we exchanged silly little remarks and laughed at them just as a cool breeze picked up enough to tug reddened leaves off the tree branches to dance around us. 

-

Robert   
The warm sun beamed over our heads as it started on its evening descent and we lied down on a faded gingham blanket amongst the overgrown, sweet-smelling dry grasses. In the background was the rustling of leaves in the light breeze, the braying of the clever goats, the abrupt sniffs of the horses, and occasionally Strider’s conversational yaps. Robert still had a few light purple wildflowers poking through the waves of his hair from hours before. I sipped at the now-warmed cherry wine and smile gently, my eyes squinting slightly at the brightness of the sunshine as I looked to the man at my side, twisting around the thin stems of dandelions into a crown the way his sister showed him ages ago. 

He placed it delicately over my head and giggled as it fell lopsided, pronouncing me a fair sovereign that would rule at his side with a cherry-tainted kiss to seal the accord. His strong arms pulled me to lie down over his chest while he played with my hair. I loosely draped my arms around his shoulders, my eyes observing him in the perfectly suitable golden light and my ears curiously listening in to the unfamiliar, calm melody he was humming. The questioning quirk of my brow earned me the explanation that it was a song soon-to-be-released on the fourth album, one that felt like an old English madrigal electrified by modern instruments and a bursting crescendo in the music Jimmy had written for it.


	101. Chapter 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an idea i mostly got from @tangerine_page ages ago and finally wrote out  
> Pairing: jimmy page x fem!oc at rehearsals for a 1994 Unledded concert  
> Warnings: nsfw

I was nearly shaking with anticipation as I took my seat as the concert master and carefully unpacked all of my musical gear. My one hand flipped open the plain black binder of sheet music before me so I could study over the fingering I’d written in while putting the shoulder rest over the back of my instrument and tightening my bow. Rehearsals had been rushed as always, only about a month to prepare including a rough sight-reading of all the pieces and combining the less-typical instrumentation into it. The problem now was coordinating with the two people we were accompanying for and, at least for myself, trying not to let on my excitement when they’d inevitably have to speak with me. 

My eyes remained solely focused on the music as I noodled around on the fingerboard, shadowing the bowings and fingerings of the first piece as I heard more people shuffling in. Percussionists lined the very back wall behind our wide C-shape of strings, making sure their instruments and music were all set in place for easy transitions. Various other musicians with more interesting instruments rejoined our rehearsals again, sitting in a few rows behind us. The cellos and basses were all set up, playing a few weeping notes out to the nonexistent audience as a warm-up. Violas were almost all present by now and the first few stands were penciling in some markings. The second violins were either chatting or practicing a few passages quietly. Any of the first violins behind me talked quietly and tersely or plucked a particularly tricky fingering way high up on their E strings. 

The cheery conductor’s voice was echoing off the high ceilings as she warmly made conversation with the esteemed guests. My heartbeat started to thrum, and I took a deep breath as I set my instrument under my arm in a well-postured resting position. 

“Good evening everyone!” She called us all to attention as she took her place on the podium.

It finally hit me that this was real, seeing the singer flanking her right side and the guitarist flanking her left side. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from smiling or otherwise breaking my attentive expression. The conductor introduced the two musicians at her side, and they smiled as they made such kind greetings to all of us. When her eyes fell to mine, I realized that I was going to get an individual introduction as well and a numb adrenaline shot through my veins.

“This is Morana, our concert master.” She gestured straight down to me. “Her job is to be the leader of the whole group aside from me, so any additional playing remarks should be addressed with her.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Morana.” The singer offered his hand from over my stand.

I carefully reached out a hand while keeping my instrument safely tucked under my arm, feeling myself freeze when I noticed that both of them had their attention on me. Bashfully, I managed to make a response: “It’s an honor to work with you.”

The conductor interrupted before any other exchanges could be made, calling the rehearsal to order so we could get as much work done as possible and maybe even get through the whole show if things went smoothly enough. But they never did when a new change was added, and we had to pause every so often to adjust the stylings of our accompaniment or make sure that the microphone and guitar were being projected loud enough over us. It was a challenge to coordinate given our very strict, controlled ensemble meant to follow a more fluid, improvised duet. Despite playing accompaniment for soloists being fairly similar, this was just wholly different with the degree of fluidity they performed with and the mass of musicians in the accompanying group. Everyone had to mark in tiny symbols for added dynamics, intricacies in bowings, sections to be raised up an octave by one person per stand, phrasing, and tempo changes to adapt with the way that they would be playing. 

A few hours passed before we got a short break and I took the time to peruse all the new additions I scribbled into my music. I nodded my head along as I quietly hummed out lines to myself and shadow-bowed with my right hand, trying to make sure I had the correct styling based on their instructions. My eyes dared to flicker just up over my stand to the front of the stage, everyone pretending that there was a glass wall separating us as the accompaniment, or perhaps laypeople, from them as the soloists, or famed musicians that likely didn’t want to be bothered. I looked back to the sheets in front of me and thought through some bowings to accentuate the stylistic features – starting one phrase a little higher in the bow to make sure it began softly, pushing down harder to play accented notes, using only about an inch of the bow at its balance point where there were quick staccato note sections. Every tiny little detail had to be perfect.

The rehearsal continued on with slightly more success than before, but we only managed to make it through three songs, one of which the strings didn’t really play on at all. I knew their original, recorded versions like the back of my hand but I had to unlearn them slightly to play these edited arrangements. My night would likely consist of going through all of this and re-practicing it with all the new changes. I mentally heard the songs playing in their arranged styling as I packed away my instrument – loosening the bow, clipping it into place, removing the shoulder rest, placing down the violin, strapping in the neck, covering it with the cloth, zipping it up, clicking the extra holds into place – then neatly packed up all the music into the binder. My back ached a bit and my legs took a moment to adjust as I finally stood up with my belongings in hand. But the moment I turned to leave my name was called, forcing me to turn right back around and see that I was wanted at the front of the stage.

“Sorry to bother you, but we might need additional sessions with you to make sure that we establish all the right details and then everyone can follow your example. Is that alright with you?” Jimmy asked.

“Of course, when would you want me to meet with you?” 

“We’ll start tomorrow at noon and then go from there if we need more time. Does that work for you?” 

“Sure. Would that be taking place here?” I asked, shifting around so I could pull the straps of my case up over my shoulders.

“No, I’ll write down the address for you if you’ll let me borrow a pen and paper.” He smiled, motioning towards my binder of music. 

I flipped it open to the very back, handing him my nearly dull pencil to write with on the blank backside of the music. His handwriting was neat and interesting, not quite cursive nor a strict blocked print but very easy to read over. He thanked me in advance and bid me a goodnight, as did Robert once he noticed that the planning bit was over. As I turned back around, an irresistible smile beamed over my face the whole way home and I immediately looked up the address Jimmy had written for me so I’d be ready for tomorrow. 

It was hard to sleep through the night, but I made sure to practice and make myself look a bit more presentable in the morning before leaving the house with all my gear in hand. I thought it was a bit strange to be going to a hotel for such a meeting, though they probably weren’t able to just storm the theatre space whenever they wished to. Luckily, the place wasn’t too far away to go by foot and I found myself in the posh hotel’s elevator a mere twenty minutes later, traveling up to the fourth floor then turning down to the room number indicated in Jimmy’s note. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door once I found it. Muffled footsteps tapped behind it and got closer, the lock clicked open, there stood the guitarist behind it. 

“Hi, Mr. Page.” 

“No need for formalities like that, my name’s just Jimmy.” He assured me as he gestured for me to come inside. “And your name’s Morana, right?”

I nodded.

“Not a very common name, is it?”

“No, it isn’t. Old Slavic name, I was told.”

I took a few steps inside, waiting for his direction as to where we were supposedly going to work. He shut the door and led me straight over to the living room area, apologizing that he didn’t have a stand for me once he saw the binder of sheet music under my arm. We sat down across from each other on a sofa once he moved the acoustic guitar atop it onto his lap with the binder opened on a coffee table just in front of it. 

“Alright, so not too many of the songs have a very heavy orchestra part so I just have a few I want to go over with you. Rain Song is probably the most important one.” He reasoned to himself, looking up to me for approval.

“Sure, I think that’s going to be the biggest one for strings to get right.” I agreed, turning more into a professional tone and preparing to play the part just with him.

We tested our strings momentarily for intonation and I tightened my bow quickly then we set to playing, Jimmy giving off a count. I followed the music exactly, tapping my foot subtly to the rhythm but listening in to how he was playing the guitar line and realizing that his tempo was far freer than mine was. Instead of relying solely on a strict rhythm, I kept up with him and found myself only slightly lagging behind by the time we got to the instrumental section. He paused there and I put my instrument down over my lap with my hand over the neck.

He looked down at the papers thoughtfully, “Something’s not right. Our timing isn’t together.”

“Can you play it for me first and I’ll follow in the music then we’ll play it together?” 

“How about you play just the first couple lines for me first.” 

I picked up my violin again, a bit perplexed by his request but adhering to it as I clearly wasn’t the one in charge here. With a mental count off and a quick sniff just before my bow moved, I started the relatively boring, even section of the beginning. In my head, I could hear his part playing along in exact time and nodded my head along to the even tempo I set for myself. Upon coming to the end of a phrase, I ended my preview of playing for him then looked to Jimmy.

“Play something else for me. Not an accompaniment part.” He directed.

I gave him a funny look, “Wait why- ?”

“Just play something you like to play on your own. I want to see something.” He explained vaguely, folding a hand under his chin as his eyes fixed upon my hands. 

“Do you want it to have a similar tone to this song or just any piece?”

“Any piece. Show me how you play by yourself.”

I swear I saw a glint in his eyes at that last sentence but I didn’t bother to pay attention to it, instead thinking of what I could possibly play. There were ridiculously complicated pieces that I would likely make a mistake with, so those were out of the question. There were simple ones that wouldn’t really show off things I normally played. There were traditional songs everyone knew from weddings or movies, but I wanted to do something different. I reeled through my mind for a moment, the perfect piece slipping into my memory at just the right moment – Puccini’s Crisantemi. It was a sullen, late-Romantic era piece that had a lot of contrast in dynamics and all sorts of weird accidentals that made the notes sound richer while proving that I had a good ear for intonation.

My first finger was placed at a G-sharp on the D string and I gave a preparatory sniff before my bow slowly drifted down the string. I nodded my head along to the slow tempo, speeding up and slowing down slightly with the piece’s markings that I’d memorized. Playing without the music in front of my eyes made it easier to just listen to myself play it and go more with the feel of the piece rather than just following what was written on the page. I could swell my vibrato more, prolong the notes or pauses until I was nearly pushing the timing, dramatize the dynamic changes, and my intonation was absolutely perfect. My mind was lost entirely in what I was playing after making it through the introductory section. As I ended the fading, gloomy C-sharp with tighter vibrato and a whisper of a volume, I gently lifted my bow just before it reached the tip. 

A series of light claps came from my audience of one and the setting seemed to come back to me. I bashfully set my instrument down with a tight-lipped smile, waiting to hear what Jimmy had to say and hoping to understand why he asked me to play for him in the first place. Awe, or something like it, shone in his eyes and I was taken aback. My hand tucked away the hair that had fallen over my left shoulder in case I had to play again soon, giving me an excuse to break our gazes.

“You’re absolutely magnificent. Just gifted.” He remarked softly. “What were you thinking when you were playing?”

“’Don’t mess up.’” I quipped, “Well really I just went by feel since I couldn’t just stare at the sheet music for the markings on there.”

“Is that how you played the accompaniment?”

“No.” I admitted. “It’s not so easy to do that when your dynamic level is mostly mezzo-piano and the notes are this long. Solo parts are easier since it’s all about what you’re playing alone.”

“You just played a lot of long notes that were fairly quiet.” He pointed out.

I gave him a look and sighed, lifting my instrument back up to my shoulder without further comment. But Jimmy shook his head and gently reached a hand for me to lower it again, explaining that he would play for me now so I could hear how he was doing it. My eyes read over my part and kept track of how he was stretching phrases or playing with flourishes of any kind. He looked so deeply focused but sometimes a shade of a smile lingered over his lips and he nodded his head along the way I did. I would occasionally peek up from the paper to observe his fingers nimbly dancing over the strings or how he’d raise his brows at certain parts of the song. He played through the whole thing and I noted down a few details on how he played it so I could follow him better, quietly humming my part under my breath with him.

“You’ve probably heard this a million times, but you play beautifully.” I complimented.

“I’m playing something I wrote for myself.” He grinned. “The point was that I could play it easily enough so it would always sound nice. You get the challenge of following me with a part that isn’t even the same as on the record.”

“I noticed.”

“Really? You’ve heard the song before?”

“Of course, I think part of the reason I got first chair was because the conductor saw my jaw drop to the floor when she made the announcement that we would be playing with you.”

An inflection in his face gave me an unreadable response for just a moment before he stated that we should probably get to playing. We started again on Jimmy’s count and my breath, playing with better coordination over the first line or so before he stopped out of nowhere. I finished the note I was holding then turned to him with a funny look.

“Why d’you always sniff before you start? I hear you take a sharp inhale every single time a moment before you start playing.” He questioned with amusement.

“Force of habit. It signals to other people following you that you’re about to start a section or measure, and it can act like a placeholder for a beat you don’t play on. Very helpful for syncopated rhythms. Kind of like bobbing your head to the beat but more obvious so people can hear it in case they aren’t looking up at you.”

“I don’t think I’ve noticed anyone do that before.”

“Fairly common practice.” I shrugged.

He pursed his lips in consideration of the new information then proposed we got back to playing, no nose-sniffs this time. I smiled and went on, simply swaying into his shifting rhythm. There was a different sense to it now that I was focusing more on him and less on the sheet of music alone, almost like I could hear a premonition of what it was supposed to sound like right before I heard him change notes. This time, everything flowed much better and we glanced at each other with pleased smiles as we transitioned into the burst of the instrumental section, my violin line taking control. Then he stopped me again.

“What is it this time?” I asked incredulously.

“Your vibrato. I don’t know how to really describe it properly but it’s fine for the faster notes and then it’s too close together. Do you understand what I mean by that? I don’t know exactly what terminology you’re used to but it’s too narrow.”

“Tight, you mean my vibrato’s tight.” I corrected. “It’s because I’m still using my finger to do those when I could do wrist for a looser sound. Here, I’ll try it again with wrist vibrato and you tell me if it’s what you want.” 

I tossed my loose hair back over my shoulder and re-placed my violin on my shoulder, smiling as I gave a sniff to start the instrumental section again. This time, I paid close attention to using my wrist more for the slightly longer notes and glancing over to a pensive Jimmy. He didn’t really react, so I kept going until it quieted back down again for where the vocals softened back in the style of the beginning. 

“How was that, Jimmy?”

“Better… can you just play the first couple measures and sort of get it between the two?”

My forearm was starting to get a little tired but I did as he asked while his eyes remained fixed on my left hand’s back and forth trembling motion over the fingerboard. I played it through a few times, changing up exactly how tight the vibrato was until there was a quick change in his expression and he nodded to me that it was correct. Reaching for my pencil, I wrote in that detail over the notes and committed the motion to my muscle memory with a little more practice.

“Yes, that’s exactly it. Now if only you can get everyone else to play it like that…” He half-joked as I rolled my eyes playfully.

“That’ll be its own process.” I assured him, already dreading sectionals at the next rehearsal.

“I think it’s getting better each time we play it and I don’t really want to tire you out too much, so thank you for sitting through this and getting it all down.” 

“It’s my job.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to be so patient with it. I know I can be a bit perfectionistic over small details like this, but they really do make a difference.”

“I know, I can hear it too.” 

He mirrored my gentle smile, his dark hair shining slightly golden in the bright setting sunlight streaming in through the window.

“I think you just need to stop listening so much to the exactness of this,” He pointed to the binder on the table, “And let go a little. Let yourself get lost in it like you did with that other piece.”

“But it’s different being the accompanist because I have to follow you perfectly since you’re the one in control there an- ”

My sentence was cut off with his sharp look of disbelief.

“Want me to disprove you?” 

“I don’t know how you’d go about it but sure.” 

He placed the guitar on the floor, off to the side where nothing could happen to it, and I placed my violin over the tabletop in preparation of hearing his reasoning. But with the swift movement of his hands to my jaw, entrapping me in place, and the lightning quick speed with which he leaned in towards me made it obvious that he wasn’t going to give me a verbal lecture. My eyes widened momentarily but softly blinked shut at the sensation of his lips on mine, as gentle as rose petals. Surprise and utter shock made my reactions lag as I slowly leaned back into him. The professional dynamic from the previous however many hours disappeared into thin air like magic, especially when he continued to press forward until I leaned back over the arm of the sofa beneath him. I could feel my head starting to spin into a hazy state and my body completely relaxing to him. My hands delicately reached over his shoulders and curled around the ends of his hair, tugging lightly while I felt his lips part to let his tongue trace the seam of mine.

Just as I was about to grant him access, he broke away with a pleased grin and a victorious look on his face. My mouth gasped for air as I looked up at him with knit brows, asking for an explanation as to how the hell that related to our practice session. I certainly hadn’t wanted him to stop out of my own enjoyment and fulfillment of silly little fantasies I never dreamed to come true, but this wasn’t right… right? We were only supposed to be working together on this show and he was supposed to tell me what he wanted from the strings, not finding some excuse to catch me off-guard then kiss me.

“Told you.” 

“What the hell was that about? Did you just need something to distract me before following some impulse?” I breathed out harshly.

He chuckled at my frustration at being utterly confused. “Don’t you see, Morana? You weren’t in control then but followed along just fine without having to know exactly what was going to happen.”

I could see his point now, the crafty devil. My face remained in its stone-cold façade while I considered how to go about this and Jimmy continued to look down towards me, evidently trying to read me. His fingers combed through the sides of my hair gently as though trying to make me putty in his hands – I wasn’t quite ready to give him that satisfaction yet. In any other situation, I probably would’ve been a bit more cautious, but this was something I couldn’t help but take a risk with. I sure as hell didn’t want him to stop there so I’d have to reciprocate the sly, tricky tactic to illustrate what I wanted. 

“That was quite presumptuous of you.” I remarked steadily.

The hint of a smile on his face faded away, “I didn’t mean any harm by it. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or acted inappropriately.”

“I don’t suppose you would’ve chosen such a teaching method with everyone else.”

He remained silent for a while, pale green eyes staring at my face with something that looked like remorse.

“But it was effective, do you think you could try that again?” I asked, the ends of my lips curling up slightly as I noticed the change in his expression.

First, it was surprise. Then, it was very pleased. Finally, it was assured and victorious as he resumed leaning over me.

“That was good, love.” He commented in a new tone. “And I’d be more than happy to provide you with another demonstration, my only question is how in-depth of a demonstration would you like?”

The dirty metaphor wasn’t at all lost on me and I was nearly gloating at my success as I gave him a falsely-helpless answer: “I need all the help I can get. After all, the show is only a week away and we have to be perfectly synchronized, best to begin our thorough practice now.”

He pressed a chaste kiss over my lips, leaning in to brush against the shell of my ear as he made a hushed break of character: “You’re absolutely perfect, my girl.”

His hands reached for the edge of my loose dress, letting it drift up my legs then higher and higher while he distracted me with his lips grazing down my cheek to my jaw. Each one only added to the intoxicating daze from before. The thin fabric was bunched over my chest as one of his hands snuck beneath it to massage beneath it while the other gently plucked out the pins that held my hair back, letting it all splay out around me in a pool of shining black. My lidded eyes observed every moment just so I could remember it all in perfect clarity later like a movie, everything moving in sensual slow motion in the golden rays of the dying sunlight. But he paused when I winced at the contact of his teeth lightly nipping at a particular spot on the left side of my neck, right up by my jaw.

“Did that hurt?” He questioned in concern.

“Not too badly.” I assured. “It’s just that there’s a bruise in that spot, people get it from playing a violin or viola frequently.”

He raised his brows at the newfound information and moved to press a soothing kiss over it as if to make it better. I smiled, weaving my hands through his hair and going along with our agreed-upon dynamic with him in control while I followed his direction. The dress was soon slipped right over my head and off my arms, his mouth enthusiastically giving attention to all the exposed skin of my torso with his hands simultaneously teasing over my thighs. I nearly cried out when his lips made it down to my stomach after torturously trailing down and his fingertips inching their way up the inside of my thighs. My hands reached to the buttons of his shirt, wanting to undo them so he’d stop just for a moment and we’d be a little more even in our state of undress.

Jimmy shifted to let me more easily reach for his shirt, allowing me to pursue this desire before taking back his control. But I wanted to challenge him again and make him work for it instead of just blindly complying to his will. I took the opportunity to climb onto his lap, pushing the shirt open over his shoulders until it was off, and shoving him to lie down with my legs straddling over his hips so I could have the perfect vantage for seeing his warning look to me. Giving him an amused smile, I wiped the harshness from his face and made it worth his while – my lips grazing across his neck and shoulders, my breasts pressing over his chest while my hips grinded lazily over him, my hands tangling through his hair, my eyes staring up at him as my mouth traveled closer and closer to his suddenly-constrained jeans. He watched every single movement with delight reflecting in his eyes. 

Only as I began to tease along the V of his hips and the zipper of his pants did he speak up again: “Careful what you start, love. If you mess around too much, I won’t be so patient with you trying to be in charge.”

“It’s like the instrumental section of the song, I get to have the control now. You get it back when I’m done.” I reasoned, tracing my finger over the outline of his cock through the rigid material.

“Fine, but consider yourself warned if you drag this on much longer.” 

I grinned, my palms falling flat over his hips while I slid back over his legs and let my tongue slip just barely beneath the edge of his jeans before unfastening them to grant myself more access. This earned me a muttered encouragement from Jimmy, who was growing frustrated with my slow progression of things. My hands tugged down the clothing from his hips then spread over the tops of his thighs for stability while my face tilted lower to one side, my lips a mere inch from his tip. I looked up at him, satisfaction arrogantly pouring through me at the frustrated desperation on his face. 

“Tell me, how bad do you need it? Maybe I’ll consider getting right to it if you ask nicely enough.”

“Maybe I should just grab you by the hair and do exactly as I wish with you.” He threatened.

I dug my nails into his skin just enough to make him wince, “That’s not what I asked for.”

He took a breath before complying: “Just stop teasing already, can’t you see how bad I need it?”

“Ask me politely.” I grinned, seeing the pain on his face.

“Please just suck me off before I lose my patience with you.”

I tutted and shook my head, “That wasn’t very polite but I’ll let it slide this time.” 

As my lips parted, I stuck my tongue out flat to press over his tip and gather the bead of pre-cum leaking from him while one hand slowly glided along the base of his shaft. The tortured distortion of his features shifted every so often with my actions, trying to get me to take it further by any means possible. His hand pressed down over the top of my head, his mouth made empty threats, his hips started to slightly buck up towards my mouth to get deeper. I refused to play along and continued slowly trailing my tongue over him and let my hand languidly cup him or rub my thumb lightly over the very tip. The gasp I heard and stunned face he made when I finally took him down my throat made it worth the taunts. 

“Fuck yes, that’s it…” He purred.

I hummed against him in response before holding my breath and measuredly taking him down my throat as far as I could. This time, he grew louder in expressing his pleasure and lowly moaned out my name when my eyes glanced up at him before drawing back with a pop. He looked like he wanted to scold me and praise me at the same time for that scene. But I spoke before he could collect his breath enough to begin.

“Okay, I’m done. Your turn now, Jimmy.” I cheerfully announced, sitting over my knees between his parted legs.

“You’re going to regret that, little girl, with the way that I’m getting back at you for it.”

“Please.” I shrugged nonchalantly, accepting whatever he thought might be punishment.

He yanked me up by the wrist and, like a whirlwind, got us in the adjacent room then roughly positioned me lying face down with my hips bent over the foot of the bed. His hands pulled my knees up to my elbows almost painfully, making sure my face was pressed down into the sheets and my back was as arched as it could be in this position. Jimmy began fairly: his talented fingertips teasing along my opening, delving inside with two of them, and his tongue lapping at the wetness glistening around them. My weak cries were muffled and my hands grasped at the duvet for some kind of brace to resist crashing as my body tensed. But then he slowly began to get rougher with me: his free hand spanking a mark over my ass then moving to grab me by the hair, his teeth biting into the sore flesh, his fingers relentlessly prodding at the spot that made me quiver with his fingers after easily finding it. 

“This is very light punishment, Morana, just think of what I’d do if I wasn’t so generous with you.” He warned once he made the realization that none of his roughness actually had the intended effect, rather making me drip over his fingers even more.

I started squirming more as a building climax almost reached its peak, but Jimmy read the signals too and removed his touch from me. It felt like a cruel deprivation. My head turned to face him with a stern glare in my eyes while he flashed me a cocky, knowing grin. But I’d let him win this time and hope that I’d get another day to pay him back for this torment if I complied nicely enough.

He pretended he didn’t notice my anguish, “You taste so sweet, darling. But I think you’d look even prettier when I let you cum, eventually.”

“You’re too kind.” I replied sarcastically, flipping around to lie down on my back with my bent legs at either side of his hips.

As he stepped nearer, I wrapped my legs over his torso and crossed my ankles at his back, effectively keeping him in place while signaling that I wouldn’t be entirely passive even through my compliance. My motion earned a grin from him as his fingertips traced lines up the sides of my thighs then lingered down to my sides and I could feel him lean into me, giving just enough pressure to cause agony but not nearly enough to satisfy the desire running wildly through me. I reached my hands to his, clasping them together and using them to pull him closer in towards me. He smiled against my lips as they collided with his, driving his hips into me with a measured pace while I was distracted by the softness at my mouth. I moaned against him, my lips parting and eyes widening at the sudden pressure as I clenched my legs tighter around him. 

“Oh my- ” My breath hitched, back arching off the bed. “Fuck, Jimmy…”

His hand combed through my hair, grabbing at it to bring my face up and capture my attention. I looked up at him in bewilderment mixing with arousal at the dark, authoritative veil over his expression. 

“Eyes on me, darling.” He reminded huskily.

My arms looped around his neck and weighed down over his neck, giving me better access for retaliation. I started by just barely touching my lips to the heated skin of his neck, parting them over the spot at the same slow rhythm his hips rocked into me with, and letting my teeth sink into the skin until he growled in disapproval. But I hadn’t disobeyed his rules, relishing in the unmissable reaction within his eyes and looking up at him innocently just to mock his sense of command over me. The hand in my hair released me, instead finding itself wrapped around my neck and applying a light pressure against it. He likely meant it as a punishment, his surprise evident when my reaction was a pleased hum and a lazy smile. 

“You like it rough, then?” He questioned with a sharp thrust to accentuate his point.

“You call that rough?” I challenged.

“Wicked girl.” He muttered against my cheek.

“Well, are you or are you not going to- ?”

The sudden sensation of his free arm lifting me up by the arch of my back while he slammed into me with a ferocity cut off my taunt before I could finish delivering it, achieving exactly what I had wanted. The breath was knocked out of my lungs and I used my loose hold around his neck to pull us chest-to-chest, feeling his heart thrumming against mine through our skin. Now the ascent into pure ecstasy was coming on faster with a lingering twinge of stinging pain where I knew I’d have bruises form by the next morning. My senses were becoming overwhelmed, tension building up all over me before the inevitable release. The unfamiliar position was only driving me closer to the edge, my body just barely hovering over the bed with just the ends of my hair brushing back and forth over it. I cried out at a sudden spike in pleasure as he purposely aimed at just the right spot, making me thrash upwards into his frame so my chin rested over his shoulder.

“Too much?” He mocked with a rasping tone.

“N-No.” My voice trembled as my muscles were spasming at how clenched they were, teetering on the edge of completely letting go.

He held me with his arms circled around my waist as I clung to him, his arms directing the motion of my hips as I slowly began to give out. My quiet breaths had grown into loud panting, my breath fanning over his shoulder as he relentlessly continued his frenzied pace and had me nearly screaming. I squirmed against him, hoping to wriggle out of his grasp for some sense of relief from the building tension about to burst from within me. It was becoming too much, but I wasn’t going to admit it to Jimmy. The heat that rippled through me was spreading from my abdomen through to the very tips of my fingers and toes. It was like feeling tiny electrical shocks in every part of my body as my energy was about to give out entirely. In one final act of holding onto my restraint, my legs squeezed around his torso and I clenched around him then crashed down with a prolonged moan humming at the back of my throat.

As my spent body collapsed down over the disheveled bedding, Jimmy delivered a few final thrusts into me. He still clung to my waist, drawing my abdomen up towards him as he buried himself deeply and painting my walls with spurts of hot cum. His soft voice grew even softer in whimpering into my neck and I felt myself fawn at the sound of it. How he possessed such a strong duality was beyond me, I pondered over the subject while combing through his slightly sweat-matted hair and tracing the scratch marks I didn’t realize I’d left across his back. He pulled out of me slowly and turned to face me, a rosy glow over his face with an easy smile etched over his lips while his crinkled eyes shone with the same delight.

“Not too bad at synchronizing with each other, yeah?”

I laughed softly, “I suppose so.”

“And I suppose we’ll have to sleep without the duvet cover tonight.”

“You’re not kicking me out?” I questioned with just a hint of surprise.

He gave me a look, “What sort of indecent man do you take me for?” 

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “It isn’t that late and I didn’t think you’d want me to stay all night. I mean, this was supposed to just be a professional meeting.”

“I’m very glad it didn’t turn out to be a dull, strictly business meeting. You’re an absolute delight, love, and I don’t plan on ‘kicking you out’ anytime soon. We’ll just have to get to the rehearsals tomorrow evening.” He reminded.

I smiled at his response and the way he scooped me up towards him with his arm around my torso, bringing me in to plant his lips over my bowed forehead. He apologized for the light grey bruises littered along the circumference of my hips, taking back the apology when he noticed my unabashed smile and when I pointed out the thin red slashes across his back from my nails. Our playful interaction continued on until the sunlight had completely faded from the sky and no longer shone through the windows, silvery moonlight taking its place. His lingering touch and double-entendres returned, as did the heated, challenging tone of our conversation as we taunted each other for power again. We passed the time on more practice in spontaneous coordination, learning the intricacies of each other’s reactions or behavioral patterns through experimentation until our energies were entirely drained and the pale gold rays of the early dawn began to glow through the curtains.


	102. tension (david bowie & mick jagger x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: david bowie & mick jagger x fem!reader after meeting up at a studio 54 party  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "yes uhhhhhhh i would like a story that's a threesome with the reader, david bowie, and mick jagger, with lots of sexual tension between everyone (bonus points if it's at studio 54). "

“What a wonderful surprise!” I exclaimed from Mick’s side, recognizing David through the crowd of people at the glitzy party as he approached us.

“That’s just what happens when tour dates or other responsibilities overlap, Y/N.” He answered nonchalantly with a welcoming smile on his face, brushing past a group of very drunk people shouting the lyrics to whatever song was playing.

“Doesn’t make it any less pleasant to see another familiar face through all these strangers.” I retorted cheerfully.

Mick chuckled then teased my reaction with a patronizing tone: “Aww she missed you.”

I gave him a look as I stepped forward to embrace our friend, the party celebrating whatever occasion completely forgotten in my mind besides the lights, thumping music, and glittery or nearly nude people around us. David planted a kiss to my cheek sweetly as we parted but his gaze looked to Mick from behind me before he glanced back at me with a flash of a smile, the strange dynamic between the three of us almost tangible as Mick drew his arm back around me. They shared a curt conversation while I observed what was going on, wondering what had changed since the last time we’d seen each other at a different party in a different city. 

The snappish tone they began speaking to each other with was becoming heated, or at least that’s how I interpreted it from the sidelines. I excused myself to bring drinks for the three of us – suddenly turning Mick’s passive aggressive and David’s cleverly biting remarks pause to reply to me with a genuine gratitude. It was hard to stifle back a smile at how ridiculous they were behaving so I merely pivoted around on my heel and navigated my way through the swirling crowds of people to where drinks were being distributed. By the time I had cautiously grasped onto three filled glasses of some kind of pale amber liquid and brought it back, their conversation ceased. They were cheery at my return, carefully taking the glasses out of my hands and thank me again. 

I sipped at the bitter drink, feeling its burn tickling the back of my throat as I looked out at the scene of the party and bobbed my head along to the music. But while my attention was away from my two dear friends, something happened. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, though my suspicion was more than ready to place some blame on Mick’s easy jealousy likely triggered by something David did mindlessly and meant no harm by. My eyes glanced between them and noted the sharp glare from one set of blue eyes to the clueless gaze of the other. 

“What’s wrong? You two aren’t as sociable, at least with each other, tonight.” I finally remarked.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Mick muttered under his breath.

“No, I agree with Y/N but I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

The other singer laughed dryly and shook his head before looking between the both of us incredulously, “You’ve been staring at her all night like you’re mentally undressing her or something.”

I scoffed, knowing I’d been right all along.

David was quick to a rebuttal: “And you haven’t?” 

“She’s been travelling with me the last month or so, I think that gives me a right to- ”

“A right? The only right anyone gets is if she tells you- ”

“I’m standing right here, guys.” I interrupted. “And both of you are starting to get on my nerves.”

They immediately tried convincing me not to go anywhere, apologizing for all those things, and assuring me that everything was fine. The subject of conversation was changed to more neutral topics and joviality returned between them. Meanwhile, an idea brewed in my head with the help of whatever the hell I was drinking making my restraint ease away. A wicked little grin teased at my mouth as I thought through how I’d get it to play out after their bland conversation on a mutual music-business-friend ended.

“Cut the crap that you’re playing at for my sake, you’ve still got some unresolved issue between you both and I’ve got an idea on how to get rid of it.”

“Oh really?” Mick turned his head to me in interest. 

I set my glass down on a nearby counter, “Sure. Best to just face it head-on and then get on with everything as usual, right?” 

They nodded hesitantly, a shade of suspicion passing over David’s visage.

“Well why don’t the three of us pick a place to spend the night and… resolve… this tension?” I offered, my grin growing wider.

The two singers turned to each other with conflicted or unreadable expressions while silently debating with each other over my proposition. I simply stood back and waited for their responses, not caring for whatever they chose to do but a sliver of me hoping that they agreed to it. Neither of them was particularly bashful in such matters, actually fairly experimental as far as I knew, and didn’t want to spoil their friendly relations. My prediction, again, was correct when they mirrored smiles and nods to me.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here.” I directed, taking them both by the hand and leading them out of the stifling building. 

A quick car ride later, we came back to the hotel where I was staying with Mick and strode into the elevator with anticipation starting to spread through the air between us. The doors slid open with a ding and we turned down the hallway, finding the correct room then Mick unlocking it with a key from his pocket. Everything seemed to be moving too slowly – the process of twisting the key through the lock, pushing the door open, walking inside – I wanted to bolt right into the room with the both of them and let the true festivities commence. My curiosity was solely dwelling on what would happen with the three of us in such a spur-of-the-moment, unrestrained setting and the yet to be melted away tension.

Pursuing the instinct of impatience, I instantly marched back to the re-made bed and draped myself over it, my feet finally relieved slightly from the platforms I’d been wearing all night long. I kicked them off and sat up against the pillow-lined headboard with an expectant gaze directed towards the two singers. They followed, though somewhat dazed as though in disbelief, and stepped across each other to my sides. I turned my head from one to the other while my hand reached to the loose hem of my dress and slowly let it drift higher up my thigh until the garters holding up my tights were visible. My hand now drifted torturously slowly, trying to provoke one of them in joining me rather than just watching from the side. With a brief, beckoning glance to Mick, I soon got exactly the reaction I wanted with his hand guiding mine along the way until the dress was lifted over my head and he leaned in to connect our lips.

But the touch of a different hand over my folded leg turned my attention away, a dark smile curling at the edges of my mouth as I raked a hand through his neatly-coiffed, freshly-dyed reddish and marigold accented hair. He kissed the skin between my collarbones and chest, slowly following the V-ed curve of my breast down to the small space between them. Mick then reached to unhook the scant article of underclothing from my torso and tossed it aside in the direction of my dress, his shirt following suit immediately. I relished in the smooth collision of our warm skin, smiling against his mouth while I felt David’s hands running up and down my thighs to slowly pry them apart. 

“Jesus Y/N, if I didn’t know better I would’ve assumed that you set all this up.” He remarked, sneaking a finger beneath the sole, drenched article of clothing I was wearing.

“I promise I didn’t plan this, but I can’t say I’m unhappy.” I affirmed, breaking the connection with Mick’s swollen lips momentarily. 

They both grinned to themselves then shifted over to my thighs, Mick trailing his lips down my torso and David hooking his finger at the small bit of fabric left on me to slide it down to my ankles. 

“Even prettier all soaking wet and insatiable.” Mick complimented, now side-by-side with the other singer at my knees and both of them giving me ceaseless attention when the night had only just begun. 

Fingertips grazed over my burning skin, slowly trailing higher and higher up my thigh with the gentleness of a summer breeze with the exact opposite effect of cooling the heat within me. My stomach quivered at the sensation of featherlight lips pressing delicately across my hips and just daring to linger lower. It became harder to stay still with the alternating ministrations of Mick’s nipping teeth and soothing tongue running along the inside of my thigh. All I could feel were their touches and the heavy breaths pushing though my lungs, then came the freeze. My two partners for the evening met each other in the middle – one circling his fingers from his descent while the other reached his ascent and sampled what had awaited him at the peak. The world seemed to stop. My whole frame tensed at the sudden fulfillment of my wishes, my control slipping away for just a moment. Their eyes were fixed on me as my head fell back and my hips tilted up to meet their touches with harder pressure. 

“Patience, Y/N.” David warned as Mick restrained me with an arm across my abdomen. 

I whined, “How long do you plan on teasing me for? This is to resolve your tension, not mine.”

“Oh you want things to move faster?” The latter man threatened with a malicious grin.

Before I was able to protest, he dove his fingers and tongue into me while our friend assisted his efforts by holding my thighs firmly apart with his fingers digging into the skin just slightly painfully. I couldn’t suppress my reaction, whimpering and cursing him out breathily without abandon. My instinctive efforts to relieve myself from the torment or fight my way through it were kept at bay by David’s tight grip on me. But he kept pushing, forcing himself to faster and harder than before until I was just racing towards a climax and even continuing to make me ride out the aftershocks with his tongue lapping it all up. 

“Was that fast enough for you, love?” He taunted, giving me a moment of repose.

“Fuck you, Mick.” I shook my head against the pillow, my lungs heaving for oxygen.

“You will. And you'll have David here, too. But I believe it’s your turn to help us, how did you put it… relieve tension between us?”

I shifted onto my stomach and reclined over his lap: one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft while the other was played over his thigh. My eyes remained up on his as I languidly began to tease him, my lips parting as I drew my face near. His lips curled up and his hands guided me closer by the sides of my face until my stuck-out tongue flatly pressed to his already-leaking tip. I didn’t grant Mick easy satisfaction – only kitten-licking along his length with a dramatized innocent gaze as he stared at me with a warning glare. The smirk on his face etched wider when I finally took him deeper in my mouth, his hands pushing me lower slowly until my nose grazed his torso and I could barely breathe. He finally let me go when he heard me gag and lifted me up by the chin, mockingly praising me before pushing me towards a waiting David.

Anticipation bloomed in my chest from the excitement of a new partner to explore. His gold-lined blue eyes with mismatched pupils observed me as my hands pressed to his shoulders, coaxing him to lie back over the pillows while I got started. His hands more softly glided along my cheeks, barely brushing into my hair when I lifted my head up from pressing a light kiss to his hipbone. I didn’t tease him so much: licking a stripe up the backside of his length, pressing my lips to the tip, and pumping a hand over him a few times then taking him into my mouth. He moaned softly between his pink lips when I sucked in my cheeks and made sure to keep running my tongue along his tip as I maintained a circling rhythm, going lower then drawing back. When his hands started to clasp at the sheets, I pulled them into mine and gazed right up at his lidded eyes. He freed his hands and pushed me off by the shoulders, taking a moment to gather his breath.

“How the hell did you learn to do that?”

I grinned, “Practice.”

“Well, now that we’re even, lets practice something new with all of us at once.” Mick directed from the side, perhaps with a tinge of jealousy at my lack of attention towards him, or just impatience.


	103. follow me (jimmy page x robert plant) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x Robert Plant around '70  
> Warnings: nsfw

request from @tetefm in the comments of one of the other chapters: "I feel it’d be hot if they started off the night sharing a groupie, then ask the groupie to leave once they’v sort of had enough w each other’s stares🥵 and ended the night together."

The poor girl clearly wasn’t very experienced in this scene, despite her cheery glow and the confident façade she put up down in the hotel bar where they met her barely an hour prior. She’d done herself up like one of Pamela’s friends: rosy pink eyeshadow over her lids that accentuated the tint of green in her eyes, pale gold blonde hair done up in tight fluffed curls, a tiny sequined mini dress that swished just barely over her thighs, and leather sandals with crisscrossed laces up to her knees. But the drinks, combined with her nerves, undid the work of the costuming and posturing that made her seem like one of the other girls hanging around bands. Not even fifteen minutes with the singer and guitarist in the latter’s room, she was hunched over the toilet with mascara-stained tears streaming down her cheeks.

“It’s alright, honey, you should probably take it easy and just have a rest tonight.” Robert soothed her, a hand running down her back when she finally wiped off her dry mouth.

She nodded with a disappointed pout and slowly accepted his help out of the bathroom.

“Would you like us to arrange a cab ride home for you?” The guitarist asked in a slightly steely tone.

She nodded again, waiting as Jimmy called down to the lobby and sent her down to the awaiting cab. The singer helped her down and into the car as the guitarist remained like a shadow watching over everything from a little distance back. Just before the cab rode off, she gave them a weak smile and thanked them. As she was driven away, they both came to the funny realization that neither of them really remembered her name… or if she mentioned one at all.

Robert headed back inside behind his bandmate, “Hopefully she’ll be alright.”

“Mhm.”

They returned back to the elevator and up to the band’s floor, not bothering to scope out the bar again as it had grown into a sea of people. The progress of the group had been incredible recently, a year or two really did change so much of how their life on the road had been. There wasn’t much time between flying places and working on other responsibilities for them to do much else. None of them seemed to have time to cut their hair, not that Robert minded the new style. People began recognizing them sometimes in larger cities. Audiences would sing along to the songs with them and interact with his onstage shenanigans. It was almost like magic when they did that. The elevator door was opened, interrupting the singer’s train of thought. Either by some form of instinct or silent signaling between them, the singer followed the guitarist back to his room again and earned an expectant but pleased smile flicker over his bandmate’s face. 

“Jimmy, are you going to…?”

“What?” He turned to face an uncertain Robert.

His eyes didn’t meet Jimmy’s as he hesitantly asked: “Invite someone else?” 

“What would you like me to say?”

The singer bit back his lip and quietly muttered his response, “No.”

A grin curled up one side of his mouth, “Oh?”

Blue eyes met green with an unusual sharpness. They reflected a mixture of anticipation and hesitance, the same feelings that coursed through his body during those early shows together. For someone who prowled stages in front of a sea of people like a prideful lion, he sometimes had the same shirking apprehension of a frightened deer. A tinge of pink blush stained the apples of his cheeks and a hint of a smile formed across his lips in reply – such a pretty picture he made to his partner in this state, and it just made him want to taunt the bashful blond more.

“Were you really, truly, hoping that things would come to this? ‘Three’s a crowd’ and all that?”

“Sure.” He nodded, taking a measured breath before continuing. “I-I don’t know how to explain it but… it’s something in the way you play and act out there that's just irresistible and energizing, then you always know just what to say even afterwards… and I can’t help- well, it’s- do you not see it?”

His brows raised in slight surprise, “High praise.” 

“Everyone can notice it, not just me.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, Robert.”

“You know you’re good, why keep up false modesty for my sake?”

“Because I can tell you’re genuine and you see more of the bad than most people, so there’s more truth to what you’re saying as opposed to a random fan or journalist saying the same thing. Your perspective is far more valuable.”

Success – the singer was rendered silent again, his eyes pointedly looking down, a smile fighting to be on his lips, and a blush spreading further across his face. 

He chuckled dryly, shaking his curls across his shoulders and verbalized his thoughts: “Why the hell do I find it so easy and yet so hard to talk to you sometimes? I mean, you’re my friend but it’s different than Bonzo or Jonesy or… well, anyone else for that matter.”

“Friends usually haven’t kissed each other.”

Robert fell into his bashful reaction again at the memory… well, memories. But that was all heat-of-the-moment, when the energy was rushing so much right after finishing an incredible show where they’d been bouncing off of each other and they just couldn’t help it – like a brisk wildfire that consumed everything in sight then burned out after expelling all its heat or until it ran out of things to burn. Their spontaneous synchronization was awe-inspiring, causing a feeling beyond words at how in-tune they were with each other’s unrehearsed improvisations. 

The guitarist approached him, holding his head up confidently and placing his hand at the singer’s chin to force him to look at his face: “Am I wrong?”

“No, Jimmy.”

“Then are we friends or something else?”

His expressive brows knit together, “What d’you mean?”

“Do you want to do as friends do or to push things further?”

His lips pursed, unable to break the magnetic eye contact between them and still uncertain of his answer. Perhaps not uncertain in his immediate desires but trepidatious of what would come from it. He wanted to just lean forward and give his answer that way, reasoning holding his mind against it for the moment. Jimmy seemed amused by this struggle as he could easily read over Robert’s mind and know exactly how to manipulate him. Though he didn’t want to control him or play with his head that way, he wanted it to be true rather than just a momentary impulse. The guitarist’s better sense won his mental battle, so did the singer’s as he pursued the very thing he’d been wanting to do endlessly and shifted around to make their lips meet softly between those few inches that separated them.

This time was far gentler than ever before, without hurry or fear of mockery or plain desperation to expel energies off the high of the show. It was strangely fitting. Like everything had culminated up to this moment and that this was a predestined event. The guitarist’s ever-pouting lower lip fitting against the defined cupid’s bow of the singer’s upper lip. They each tasted like Jimmy’s cigarettes and the sharp alcohol they’d drunk down in the hotel bar. Robert was eager but not entirely confident, Jimmy being a perfect counter with his teasing patience and guiding movements taking over. His forearm was pressing into the curve of Robert’s back, pulling him in closer until they were against each other at the hip too. His fingers combed into the careless golden waves at the back of Robert’s neck. His throat hummed in approval when Robert’s hands cautiously pressed to the sides of his face, like trying to impossibly pull them closer.

The singer reluctantly pulled away for air, lidded eyes barely reopening in hopes to continue in a moment.

“Good answer.” Jimmy quipped. “I’m rather pleased, you seem… enthusiastic.”

Robert cracked a smile and laughed lightly, admiring how his fingers were tangled into the raven locks of hair framing Jimmy’s face. 

“Enthusiastic because I might’ve been thinking about it for a while and was just too scared to do it until now. And now only because you said something about it.”

“Oh, should I mention more things then? That way you might feel brave enough to do as you wish.” 

“More things?” He asked with the quirk of his dark brow.

“Certainly.”

“Like what?”

“Have more confidence in your songwriting, play with the audience, kiss whoever the hell you want, ignore ‘better reasoning’ or pointless guilt.” 

“I’ll start now.” He remarked as a foreshadowing, his hands slipping lower to unfasten just the top few buttons of Jimmy’s shirt and giving pause to allow plenty of opportunity for him to protest at any point.

There was no protestation nor passivity, his partner reaching to reciprocate the motion with more of a daring nature and unfastening the restraints of Robert’s jeans. But his patient manner didn’t get lost amidst the rising desire – no, need – to keep going. Instead, his warming hand slipped beneath the singer’s thin blouse and tracing the lines of his torso as a conflicted expression crossed his face at something he didn’t expect. His hips tilted forward, and he hoped it wasn’t too obvious, after expecting the guitarist’s hand to drift lower rather than higher while the other remained right at his hipbone for stability. 

“Please.” The hushed, delicate lilt of the singer finally vocalizing what was running through his mind on a loop during the brushing of Jimmy’s fingertips over his skin.

“I’m not a mind-reader.”

“Please touch me.”

“But I am.”

An exasperated breath pushed through his pouted, parted lips: “You know what I mean.”

“I need to hear you say it, baby. How would I know exactly what to do unless you told me?””

A pause passed between them and Jimmy stopped the doodling of his fingers completely, trying to coax an answer out of the hesitant blond. 

“Here?” Jimmy hinted, his roaming hand over Robert’s taut stomach.

He shook his head.

“Hmm, how about here?” 

The hand fell between the V-ed bones prodding through his tanned skin and he felt like a stone had replaced his heart momentarily.

“Lower, Jimmy, please.”

The hand teased at the tickling brush of curls just at the end of the trail that began at his stomach. 

“Here?”

“Lower.”

Jimmy’s touch dared to push as per his request, down along the undone zipper of the jeans until his breath caught and his eyes turned desperately pleading. The guitarist’s hand managing to slip into the most constrained part of the jeans and curling his fingers the way he knows to be entirely maddening. Except the reaction he receives is more than what he expected, the singer’s restraint chipping away with each passing second. Robert whines, leaning into the pleasure that his bandmate’s hand is giving him, tossing his head back while keeping his eyes just barely open enough to watch Jimmy’s collected expression. 

“Is this what you wanted? Or is there more?”

Robert realized where this was going, a lesson to make him emboldened and ask for exactly what he wanted or this would drag on forever. To let go of the bashfulness in making his requests. To release the clawed grips of the restraint that held him back for this long. To be freed and unabashed.

He took a breath and went for his first practice run: “Take off the jeans.”

“That’s better. What else?” He beckoned, beginning to kneel down in preparation and to easily slip the denim over his legs then off his ankles.

“Keep touching me the way you were before.”

Not a good answer and Jimmy tutted at it, “Where?”

Robert’s voice was silent and Jimmy turned his head up to look right at him, expectantly. He felt like he was about to burst, still not able to voice everything he wanted and only using Jimmy’s name as a means of begging.

“Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” 

“Fuck, Jimmy, just take me any way. With your hands, in your mouth… just please.” His tone cracked with a final plea.

“You can do better than that, Robert, but I’ll allow it just this once.” Then he added in mocking, “Only ‘cause I can see how badly you need it.”

His fingertips drew curled paths following the V of his pelvis and then planted themselves as they’d been before, now without the restriction of the denim. The hand encircled around the width of his base started a slow pace of up and down, gradually giving Robert what he wanted with an adequate warm-up. Jimmy’s tongue darted between his parting lips and with his tilting head, the wet heat touching at the edge of his own hand then running a smooth line along the backside of the singer’s cock. He lets the tip lie flat over his tongue while his head rolls back slowly until his tongue no longer touches him. The low, hardly noticeable hum coming from Robert signals that his self-control is thinning, but not thin enough yet for Jimmy to take him into his mouth. 

Green eyes flicker back up to observe the sight above: pained brows arched up together, half-mast eyelids, drowning eyes, flared nostrils pushing out hot breaths, mouth fallen open in a silent cry. An alternative appearance to Peter Paul Rubens’ Return from War painting: a delicate, blue-eyed Mars disarmed by a kneeling, still-dressed, dark-haired Venus. An assuring sensation of satisfaction spread through Jimmy’s chest and up to his head. One more little lick, just to mess with Robert. Then came the soft velvet of his lips around him as his length was plunged into Jimmy’s mouth, following the rocking rhythm of his hand from before. Suddenly the thin fabric of the singer’s loose blouse felt stifling to him, and he needed to brace himself somehow against letting his cries fall freely from his mouth at how goddamn impossibly good this felt. 

Instead, he only let his bandmate’s name be chanted from his lips like the intricate words of a powerful spell or divine ritual. He was losing himself in the feeling and letting himself just feel it all: the weakness of his knees, the dizziness of his head, the flush of his face, the saliva coating him, the massaging of Jimmy’s tongue. His hands helplessly snaked through the guitarist’s hair, just following a force of habit and trying to get him to go faster, deeper, anything more than this. But Jimmy was a suitable Venus in his commanding nature and resisting Robert’s impulses, punishing the singer instead for the attempt at gaining more than he deemed enough for the moment by completely slipping away. Any requests would have to be verbalized, just the same as before. 

A long whine buzzed through Robert, from his chest up to his lips, and he muttered Jimmy’s name again.

“If you want me to do something, baby, you have to ask for it.” 

He weakly exhaled: “Fuck me.”

A grin twisted Jimmy’s lips, “Much better, but you’ll have to return the favor first. I don’t wish to hurt you and it’ll make it a bit easier.” 

The singer nodded, still evidently aching from being brought up close to the edge like that but willing to do anything as long as it ended in reaching relief. He could feel heat rolling off him in waves as his eyes followed the undressing and elegantly reclining guitarist, looking to him with an expression so mixed that it looked blank. His hair was like a dark seraphic halo against the crisp white of the pillows he rested his head upon and his posture was more than inviting, springing the observant singer into the action of resting at his lap like a humble disciple at the feet of his powerful, wise guide with admiration in both of their stares. 

A rush of bold confidence, or maybe just fidgeting impatience, made the singer move without hesitance. It would be like paying homage, doing whatever came to mind that would show willingness, gratitude, and some form of adoration. He was guided by no logic nor much of any experience, just impulse and assumptions based off his own preferences, experimenting with what made Jimmy’s stony façade break for even a moment. A particular spot along the inside of his thigh. A flick of the tongue just under the ridge of his tip. A little bit of pain from teasing or nails being dug into his skin. A sense of control over the giver by raking his hands into their hair. A devoted gaze looking back up at him. 

“Mm… that’s enough.” He insisted with a gravelly tone, his eyes opening from their lidded state when Robert obediently withdrew.

“Was that alright?” 

His eyes smiled and his lips barely stretched into a matching expression, “More than alright.”

A quiet, happy victory flushed Robert’s face and he was thankful for his long hair hiding away some of the pinkness in his cheeks. But the incredulous, amused look over Jimmy’s wiped the joviality away, leaving curiosity and wonder in its stead. He’d forgotten for a moment that there was more and the not-so-innocent desire returned with an electrifying strike only comparable with a catchy, attention-catching riff. It stirred him enough to dare planting his lips to the guitarist’s bare torso, his blue eyes looking up for approval and seeing stern green eyes staring right back at him. 

Then came the command: “Now turn ‘round but stay on your knees like that. I’m far from done with you.”


	104. secret (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x younger fem!reader  
> Warnings: family disapproval/kinda angsty in that way

request: "hey grl, i know you probably busy at the moment with fics so only this if you can be bothered. no rush! can i recommend an older jimmy fic about the obvious age difference and a little fluff/angst about reader being in love with and wanting a relationship but is having trouble with her parents understanding it and accepting it💟X"

My breaths were shaky as I knocked on the door and waited for an answer. I told Jimmy that there was something important going on and needed to talk to him, apprehension in his tone when he beckoned me to come over. The same trepidation was in his eyes as he opened up the door for me and invited me inside, immediately cutting to the chase by asking what was going on the moment I stepped onto the polished floors. My heartbeat seemed to freeze for a moment, weighing down on my chest and keeping me from making eye contact with him until after I collected myself in a deep breath.

“I can’t keep this a secret anymore. I know it isn’t anyone’s business, but I can’t keep telling people I’m just working long hours for you and that you let me stay over. My parents are trying to pair me off with someone else and if I tell them I’m not single, they just push me to tell them who it is.” 

He nodded, motioning for both of us to sit down on the elaborate, likely museum-worthy, loveseat in the front room. His hands reassuringly took mine within them and his eyes were fixed at the floor. I waited out for his response, not wanting to pressure him into saying something and knowing that he was likely thinking through all of it rationally. This was probably the first time he had to deal with this wide of a gap between ages on top of the troubling disapproval of loved ones. I chewed at my lips until I noticed a slight smile forming over his.

“If you have to tell them, get it over with. Like ripping off a bandage, yeah?” He looked up into my eyes, genuine in his tone besides the suggestive hint at the end: “Whatever happens, I’ll still be here with you and more than able to provide plenty of distraction from anything they may say.”

“So, you think I should just call them and tell them now?”

“Sure. I’m right here with you.” He reminded, pulling up my grasped hands to his lips for a moment.

I moved my hands away to reach for my phone, finding the right contact and starting a call before I could convince myself against it. The dial tone rang out like it was warning me of my inevitable doom when someone picked up the other end of the phone. If they did, that is. I clung onto that possibility of “if” with every half-second that felt more like five minutes. My eyes would quickly shift to Jimmy’s, noting the supportive comfort in them and feeling a slight soothing against my nerves each time I did. He took my free hand and brushed his fingers over the back of it to try calming me down further.

“Hello? Y/N?” A familiar voice answered after four dials.

“Hi, I have something to tell you.” I remarked through a heavy breath.

“What? What is it?” Worry quickly seeping through their voice.

“Well, I’ll start by saying please don’t tell anyone outside the house about this.”

“Okay.”

I looked to Jimmy and took in a deep breath that fell right down to my stomach like a stone, “You know how you keep trying to set me up on a date with that friend of a friend?”

“Yes…”

“I’ve been refusing every time because I’m already seeing someone, not because I don’t want to bother with it. I’m just afraid of your reaction to who it is that I’m with.”

“Oh, well who is it then?”

“You know the very nice man I’ve been working with?”

“The young one who comes in to help you sometimes with archiving work?”

“No, I should’ve said the one I work ‘for’. It’s him.”

A deafening, tense silence followed. I hoped that the signal had cut out before the confession was made, even afterwards so I wouldn’t have to hear the tirade of insults I expected to hear. But when I checked my phone, the call was ongoing. Shit.

“H-Hello?” I asked, already feeling the prick of tears burning in the corners of my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m still here, Y/N.”

“Oh. Well…?” I prayed that the quiver in my voice wasn’t heard through the receiver.

“Your boss? Really? How old is he? Is that why you’ve been working long hours? Did he force you into this? Are you sleeping with him for his money?”

I knew it. Each little prod like the push of a blade into my bleeding heart. The accusatory tone only coaxing out the tears to glass over my eyes. Jimmy kept watch over me, pressing my hand into his chest and trying to provide any comfort at all as I continued with the call. He gave me a slight spark of bravery in coming up with a response – this wasn’t wrong if both of us goddamn wanted it and none of it was forced. Besides, it wasn’t really anyone’s place to judge. My eyes burned with the tears, only now they were like tiny little flames falling down my flushed skin and I sniffed in a quick breath to strike.

“Yes, really. He’s kind to me, far kinder than anyone else has ever been to me and he certainly didn’t force me into this. Frankly, I don’t give a shit for what his age is so please just stop trying to make that such a big deal.”

“You’re so damn naïve, you really don’t think he’s just using you because you’re a younger piece of ass to him?”

Jimmy’s hand tightened around mine, evidently hearing every word of the conversation.

“No, how would he use me like that without my own willingness? What the fu- ”

He cut in suddenly, leaning in towards the phone to comment on his own behalf: “Y/N’s one of the dearest things in the world to me, regardless of age, and she’s incredibly brilliant. I have nothing to exploit from her.”

The voice on the other end went silent in surprise.

I piped up before I could get an answer to have the final word for myself: “I don’t care if you disapprove. I just trusted you with important, personal information and if you don’t like it, that’s your own problem to deal with.”

My finger pressed the button to hang up and my lungs emptied themselves completely, as though pushing out all the negativity that the conversation had harbored. I glanced to a proudly smiling Jimmy who rewarded me with a quick kiss and a tighter hold on my hand, making me reflect his expression. He stepped up for me without stepping on my toes and I was so thankful for him in every regard I got to know him in. I had far more faith in finding peace and happiness with him than with a lot of my family, only encouraging me further that this was the right decision. If they wanted to make amends, they were more than free to do so. But I wasn’t willingly just going to take all the insults and let them dominate every aspect of my life when I was pleased with my own choices.

“My brave girl.” He remarked quietly.

“Thank you for being here the whole time. I’m sorry you had to hear that since it was all so stupid and they have no ground to make judgements upon.”

“You’re absolutely right and I said I wouldn’t leave your side. It must be terribly painful to have loved ones call you such things then tell you that I must be trying to get something from you, which I’m not, and insist that you’re being foolish as though you’re just a child without any independent capabilities.”

I shifted to straddle his lap, dropping my phone over the cushion I’d just been sitting on and wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. His looped around my hips, keeping me in place with brightness marking his features. It was difficult to believe he was real in times like these when he found just the perfect words and acted so caring towards me. My head nestled against his shoulder while his hands smoothed over my back. I took in his light, sophisticated scent that worked like a drug to fill my chest with renewed strength and I felt the warmth radiating off of him into me like a blanket. We sat in silence for a few minutes before Jimmy changed the subject: speaking softly about what we could do the rest of the day to move on from this.

My lips pressed against his neck and then I shifted to sit back, facing him as I replied: “I don’t mind doing nothing at all. I’m perfectly happy and touched by your compassion.”

“Simple decency, love. I’m glad you got it off your chest and it isn’t a weight on your back anymore, and you spoke quite highly of me.” He grinned.

“Every single word was true. And I was leaving out quite a few things that I could say in your praise.” 

“You flatter me, though, this does give me an idea…”

I raised my brows to ask for an elaboration.

“Well, darling Y/N, we can get started with the game after lunch because I may take forever in my efforts to try acknowledging each and every little thing I adore about you.”

“That sounds a bit tame for your tastes.”

He winked, “Only because I didn’t explain the whole game.”

“Fine, then let’s get to it.” I nodded, getting up from his lap and pulling him by the hand over to the kitchen.


	105. music to my ears (john paul jones x male!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x male!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "hi! i'm not sure if you're taking requests on here but if you are could i get bottom!jonesy x male!reader ? and maybe it's jonesy's first time ?"

“What changes did you want to make to the score?” John quietly asked.

I glanced up from my notebook page filled with corrections I’d written through the recording process. He looked a bit timid now, not quite as confident as he was at the microphone when playing whatever instrument was required of him. His honey brown hair was styled up out of his face and his ocean blue eyes shone with a bit of apprehension at my silence. I gave him a reassuring smile as I turned my attention back to the reams of sheet music that he’d written for the song for all the different instruments that were featured on it. 

“Oh nothing big, it’s brilliantly-written and you know it, John. The thing is that it’s a bit complicated for a regular pop song. It needs a little bit of simplification and the singer was the one who told me she didn’t want it that way, sorry to tamper down on your genius.” I quipped.

“Okay, anything specific you’d want me to do? Since you’re the producer and all.”

My eyes looked over to the clock on the wall, noting the late hour that the session ended on.

“If you’re not busy, could you come back to my place? This needs to get done before tomorrow afternoon and I can just give you all the specific adjustments. I have a piano you can work on if that helps.” 

He nodded, “Sure.” 

His bass case was clutched in his hand as he followed me through the studio halls, the score in my hands while I led us out into the streetlamp-lined road and navigated my way through them back home. Our conversation was quiet and casual, discussing weekend plans or other work projects. John was fairly new to the studio itself but very familiar with all the different instruments he picked up and with the process of composition. He was starting to become more in-demand, even just after two months of working for us. I paid him a compliment for his clear talent and mentioned that maybe he’d be able to write for an artist or group permanently after a little while. He shrugged, stating that the orchestras and individual songs weren’t too bad to work with.

I came up to my door, unlocking it and holding the door wide open for John as I flipped on a light switch. Down through the main hallway to a small living room across from the kitchen stood a sofa and a piano, all the furnishing that I ever really needed there. But now, for some reason, it felt a bit sparse. The yellow ochre shade of the lamplight tinted the rest of the room as we sat down at the piano bench together with the score spread out over the little stand. John looked to me after gently leaving his case on the floor by his end of the bench.

“Well?” He inquired with a sweet infliction at the end of his tone.

“The introduction is great, we’ll keep that. But these measures down here- ”

“Can do without the flourishes?” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

He looked over at the music and played the first two lines of it as per the new changes, seeking approval from me once finished with the simplified version. I nodded and continued to add notes that I’d scribbled down in the journal during the session. John was adept at following each of the requests and soon managed to rework the instrumental sections entirely for the song, over the course of just barely an hour. His natural gift was mind-boggling and seeing it happen before my own eyes only enhanced that effect.  
Wanting to provide some form of gratitude for his efforts and especially late in the evening, I invited him to stay just a while longer for a drink. He accepted quietly with a hint of a smile growing across his lips, collecting the sheets of the revised score in his hands before tucking them into his instrument case. His light footsteps followed me to the kitchen, seating himself at a bar counter stool and shrugging his shoulders when I asked what he’d like to have. My creative idea stemmed from wanting to do something a bit more impressive than pouring alcohol straight into a glass for a guest and the leftover cans of Coke in the fridge, luckily I had the Jack to go with it too.

“Thank you for being so flexible about all this. A lot of the composition people tend to storm out if we say we need to make changes, thinking we’re just scrapping their work or trying to personally insult them.” I explained, sliding the glass across the smooth counter over to him and leaning over it with my drink in hand.

“It’s not a problem at all. I’m not going to lose a job complaining over something that doesn’t define my own capabilities.”

“Very wise. Some of the more seasoned studio composers could learn from you and stop being drama queens about it.”

He chuckled lightly, taking a sip of the concoction and expressing a surprised delight at the taste then remarking: “This is really good.”

“Glad you like it, quite simple to make so you can mix it for yourself.”

John nodded in response and let a silence pass for a moment, “So how does the other studio work go?”

I cocked my head to the side in consideration, “Not too bad. Like I said, you’re very flexible and very talented – two things that are rare to find together, at least from my experience. People who are flexibly available or entirely complacent just to keep getting called back for jobs aren’t really the best at getting the work done right from the first couple takes. People who can get it right off the first take are usually the ones who act like primadonnas and don’t wish to listen to anyone besides themselves. You’re a rare breed and I can tell you’ll do very well in the industry. Just don’t let people overwhelm you with work.”

A gentle smile graced his full lips, “That’s very kind of you to say and I’ll be sure to take your advice, Y/N.”

“Of course, and I’ll always be around to offer any help or advise you may need along the way. I’ve been overseeing a lot of the studio work for a while and it’d be a pity to waste your talent by trying to suck all the life out of it.”

“Thank you.” 

His eyes flickered down to the glass he raised up to his mouth again, taking a sip of the drink as an excuse to halt the flattery there. I could see how bright his future was going to be, chuckling to myself about how he’d have to get used to all the compliments as well as criticisms. Something told me that a lot of effort would be required to convince him that the praise was entirely genuine and to accept it – clearly just words of affirmation didn’t do the trick and using a gift for the same purpose likely wouldn’t work with him either. I reached my hand loosely over his, not thinking at all about what he might read into it, and watched his eyes turn right back up to mine.

“I do honestly mean all of that. What does it take for you to believe in yourself?” I half-joked.

“I-I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to it…” He pursed his lips and broke eye contact again.

Bashfulness tinted his cheeks pink and he looked just like a divine character in an old painting: a halo of light gleaming over his honey-colored hair, a dim light glimmering in his dark eyes, rose petal-delicate lips, kind features, and the shy downward tilt of his face. If I was partial to him before, my heart was completely softened to him now and a guilt weighed on my chest. It was wrong and I damn well knew it. Sure, he was old enough and maybe he wouldn’t mind me thinking of him this way, but he worked for me which was enough for people to get the wrong idea, never mind the whole aspect of professionalism. Yet my forethinking logic was dissolved by the faltering flutter of the pulse in my chest at what my eyes beheld and the amiable nature of my guest.

I leaned down with my head slowly tilting to meet his, swept away by foolish impulse, and pressed my lips upon his. Just like rose petals and sweet from the drink. It was hard to draw away from him but logic flooded through me a moment later, pulling me away to regard his reaction. Only now did the second thoughts enter my mind and repercussive anxieties tremble through my veins when my eyes opened to read his. Perhaps he’d understand if I blamed it on the alcohol and sleepiness.

“John, I-I’m sor- ” I began, assuming his reaction before I could even see the thrilled sheen in his eyes and the light smile curling at his lips.

“Don’t be.” 

The soft sound of his voice washed another wave of foolishness over me and I couldn’t deny its fancies. My hand reached to his jaw, my lips again on his and savoring in the blissful feeling. I was happy to receive any moment of it as long as I could, knowing that eventually his better sense would pull him away because mine sure as hell wasn’t coming back to me anytime soon. With the jolting touch of his hands to my face, I almost forgot that there was a counter between us until I tried leaning in closer. I broke away, to my own surprise, but shifted around the edge of the counter like a whirlwind to reconnect us with more fervor than before and my hands lingered over his arms while his pressed to my torso. 

He stood up from his seat, now letting his touch drift down to my hips and coaxing a groan from the base of my throat. A warm shiver trembled down my back and flooded through my veins – my restraint to be gentle and take things slowly slipping away into thin air. He seemed so ardent with his exploring hands, I was forgetting to breathe at the intoxication of his lips, our bodies were like two inseparable magnets, my head was spinning… it was almost too much. I had to force myself away because I knew if it went much further, I wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“John, I have to know if you’re fine with this going on. I don’t want you to regret any of this or feel like I’m forcing you.” I mumbled, just over an inch away from his swollen lips.

“I want this just as much as you do. I’ve just never done this before, y’know… with another man.”

My hand reached back up to his face and I smiled reassuringly, “It’ll be alright. We’ll go as slow as you want and I’ll be gentle with you.”

His lips pecked mine again in confirmation as I led him down the hall, anticipation fueling each one of my steps up to the bed and coming back to where we left off. My head was swirling with desire but I forced myself to be patient, take things slow, give him ample time to stop me. Off went his stylish jacket, the sleek black belt at his torso, the crisp button-up tucked under the trousers, and then I reached for the zipper. I looked up into his eyes for permission, seeing desperation shining in them as he whispered encouragement for me to continue. My hand teased him for a moment, cupping at the noticeable bulge forming underneath the fabric. I could hear his breath hitch and a quiet murmur of a whine at his lips that made me want to cajole more of it from him. 

“Y/N, please…” He whimpered, his eyebrows arched in desperation and hips leaning into my touch.

“You’re a quick learner, baby.”

I reached to toss my shirt over my head, connecting my lips to his stomach and gradually trailing down lower as my hands fiddled with the restraints of his trousers. The dark wool material pooled down at his ankles then I slipped them off, pressing a kiss up at his exposed thigh. His chest rose and fell deeply with heavy breaths while my mouth drifted higher up his leg. My teeth grazed slightly over the skin before I turned my attention to where he was most aching for my touch. I brushed my hand across his hard cock, lightly squeezing and running my thumb along his already leaking slit. He gasped, pleading incoherently through pouting lips. His hushed cries only grew louder with the persuasion of my mouth around him and massaging his length with my tongue. 

“Don’t stop, oh my go- please Y/N…” He rushed out through frantic, short breaths and his voice’s pitch heightening with each one.

My cheeks hollowed as I sucked at him and took him deeper down my throat, his gasping whimpers cutting through the thick air. His hands grasped at the sides of my face, holding me closer and trying to control my pace, bobbing my head in circling motions along his length. I could feel that he was getting closer and closer to the edge: his eyes were completely shut as he savored the ecstasy he was feeling, his mouth had fallen slack, his loud breaths grew shorter, his high moans almost pained, and his hips starting to thrust further into my mouth. But I wanted him to be at that point where he was so close to the edge of letting go, willing to do just about anything to be able to be completely drained in pleasure. So I slipped away, tracing the backside of his cock with the very tip of my tongue.

“Fuck,” He swore out with a sudden power then opened his eyes to watch me stand up as he whined, “You can’t just do that.”

“Yes I can, and I just did. Now, would you like to lie back against the pillows or get up there on all fours?” 

His eyes widened with surprise and desire, springing his aching body into action as he dutifully climbed over the bed. His perfectly coiffed hair was now hanging in strands over his rosy face, his lips still parted as he breathed heavily through them and his deep blue eyes staring at me to watch every single moment of it. I teased my mouth over his exposed skin at random – kissing, gently nipping, slightly licking, just barely brushing across it – so no part of him was left abandoned of attention. His little gasps and sighs were like the most heavenly music I’d ever heard, only upstaged by the instinctive moans he couldn’t resist letting out that I’d only caught a hint of thus far. My goal for the rest of the night would be to get him as loud and unrestrained as possible, however long it would take with the principle of being patient for him ruling over our interaction, to see him in complete opposition to the usual quiet collected man that everyone else saw.


	106. piece of my heart (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x reader who's a prostitute  
> Warnings: none

request: "If ur Requests are still open: Can i request Jimmy falling madly in love with a prostitute. Maybe written from his pov? I’ve been listening to the song Roxanne by The Police ALL day long and I have been trying to imagine that songs storytelling in my mind but I’m just no good at imagination driven things lmao 🖤"

Two months had passed by since the last date of the tour, his last day with Y/N. He couldn’t sleep without thinking about her. He couldn’t eat or drink. He couldn’t focus on anything without his mind drifting to her. He couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of the house either. It was so stupid of him to feel like this, they only spent about a week together and she could’ve just been thinking of it as another day at work. The people she worked for likely paid her handsomely for keeping him satisfied for that whole time, most of that money probably coming from the tour fund that G carried around. And yet, Jimmy was stuck staring out the window at the rain in a gloomy mood for the eighth week.  
He snuck around the files the previous month at a Swan Song meeting and tried to find her phone number amongst all the transaction documents. There was a number for the house where all the girls they partied with worked at and he scribbled it down discreetly. But fear kept him from ever calling it to find out if he could speak with Y/N. Maybe she wouldn’t want to talk to him or thought he was just another sentimental customer that got attached to her. Maybe she didn’t even work there anymore. Maybe he wrote down the wrong number and would’ve falsely gotten his hopes up. He considered it too big of a risk to take but kept the scrap of paper in his pocket or at his bedside just in case he changed his mind.

Robert checked in with him earlier, calling to ask if he was alright and if there was any new material he was thinking of for the next album. He deflected queries about how he was feeling but cautiously admitted that he didn’t have any new ideas thus far. It seemed strange to impart such a foolish situation to him, so Jimmy kept his mouth shut as much as he could and tried to sound like whatever his “normal” tone was. His friend could tell that he was being curt with him and decided not to prod the disgruntled guitarist much further. Jimmy was thankful at the reprieve, sinking back down in his seat after hanging up the phone and soon getting impatient with himself. 

Why did he feel so trepidatious about a stupid phone call? It’s not like he’d be outrightly rejected nor did he have to reveal his intentions if the person who answered the phone didn’t know her. She could be busy or moved away – she might not answer the phone and he wouldn’t have to go through the whole deal of explaining himself. He didn’t have to see her face to face ever again either, although he was hoping that things wouldn’t end up that way. This had dragged on for two damn months already, how much longer was he going to pine for her? Clearly his feelings weren’t just going to subside, so he’d have to get through it all headfirst, just to get it over with. 

He reached for the phone again and held it up to his ear, pulling out the scrap of paper that had been endlessly folded over in his pockets. The numbers were a bit faded and it felt a lot softer than the crisp little notepaper it originally was. His fingers smoothed over it the best that he could, reading over the number and dialing it with an almost shaking finger. A weak breath expelled itself from his lungs and the dial tone rang in his ear like a shrill requiem. There was a crackle and then a voice.

“Hello, how can I help you?” A poised feminine tone greeted him.

“Hi, I visited a few months ago and I’m inquiring about Y/N.”

“Y/N? Oh, sure.” 

Relief washed over him – he found her. 

“Would you like to speak with her? We have rates for that as well, if that’s what you mean.” 

Now he felt scared again. He could really talk to her again, but she might just shoot him down once he managed to gain the courage to tell her why he was calling. Not even the charge for the “phone call services” bothered him at this point. 

“Um, yes. Yes, that would be great.” 

“Alright, I’ll get you right through to her. Just tell me who I’m billing to…?”

He thoughtlessly gave the operator all the information required, only focusing on hearing her voice again. The operator gave him a cheery comment then transferred him over to Y/N. There was a click, then another, and he heard her voice.

“Hello?” 

She sounded different, less unrestrained and as poised as the operator sounded. Like she was trying to sound overly sexy. 

“Hi, Y/N. I, uh, don’t know if you remember me but I met you two months ago. You came to a hotel with me for a week. I-I’m Jimmy Page.” He reintroduced, the discomfort of how strange the situation was twisting his stomach.

“Oh I remember you, how could I forget your penchant for whi- ?”

“Yeah.” He coughed awkwardly, his face turning hot. “Well I wanted to talk to you.”

“Really… what about? You missed me?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s been so long and I-I just can’t get you out of my head.” He confessed, his voice almost a whisper at the end. “Shit, I sound so stupid. Sorry for bothering you with this…”

“You’re alright. It’s… sweet, in a way. I mean we both meet so many people and yet, I’m on your mind still and you’re on my mind.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

He could practically hear the smile in her voice: “It would be impossible to forget such a charming and enigmatic person such as yourself. It was a wonderful week and you were a lot kinder to me than most other people are.”

A silence halted their conversation for a moment. Jimmy was processing each and every one of her words, not at all thinking about what he said in response.

“Come meet me. I can arrange everything for it and meet whatever needs your, uh, employers require in order to give you time off like this. You can stay with me for as long as you like, I just want to see you again and I don’t care if you just live here with me for a while, not like in a relationship or anything you wouldn’t want to do.”

“That’s a very generous offer, I… I’m not sure what to say.” Her chuckle crackled into the receiver. “I mean, how would you get my employers to let me go without doing any work? I don’t want you to feel like you’re paying me to stay with you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can take care of everything and I’m inviting you, not calling you over to work for me. Just say the word and I’ll get it all set up.”

She sighed and Jimmy could sense her resolve slipping away.

“How soon do you want me there?”


	107. nightclub singer (robert plant x fem!oc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '75 Robert x fem!OC  
> Warnings: none, just a little suggestive towards the end

The Drake was a madhouse and Robert definitely couldn’t fall asleep so soon after a show – he had to get out. He snuck out through the back, speed-walking through the alley out to the side streets with passersby walking briskly through the sidewalks. Joining their bustling ranks, he crossed the roads and zig-zagged through the blocks aimlessly. The sky was dark and it was far easier to blend in without someone recognizing him by his face, or rather, his hair. He noticed a relatively vacant street just far enough from the crowds with a dimly lit nightclub nestled between a closed hairdresser’s shop and a busy, red-checkered diner. The nightclub would have to do, its anonymous ambiance and bluesy music just right for his intentions of getting away from it all for a while.

A velvety voice was singing the end of a Billie Holiday tune, quiet applause followed the performance and the singer moved to a ditsy Marilyn Monroe number. Robert didn’t look to anyone, hoping that turning his face away from people would keep him unknown to any of the other customers. He slid into a barstool and slumped over the smooth counter. The barkeep wiped down a section of it, turning their head up at the arrival of a new person and asking what kind of drink he wanted. Robert answered quietly and promptly received a full glass of beer with white foam topping it off, providing him with something for his throat while overlooking the scene of the nightclub. 

Cigarette smoke swirled through the dark air, only lit by deep blue lights overhead and a bright white spotlight on the stage. People lazily sipped at their drinks, their movements slinking as though exhausted – and they likely were, it being a late Friday night after a busy workweek. Some of them were chatting quietly, their purposely hushed voices a mere, unintelligible murmur in the background. An unused jukebox was glowing orange in the corner, the singer onstage doing its job. His eyes lingered up towards the stage, slightly interested by the surprising change from the stereotypical jazzy blues songs to a Leonard Cohen song released just the year before – Chelsea Hotel No. 2. 

It might’ve just been the spotlight and the contrasting darkness of the rest of the room, but she looked like an angelic character in a movie with a voice to match the appearance. Diamonds glittered at her neck, a shiny black belt accentuated her waist, her chestnut hair curled over her shoulders like Veronica Lake’s, and her full lips were painted a burgundy tone to match the color of her knee-length dress. She finished the song gracefully, her lips turning up in a smile at the applause that greeted her as she stepped off the stage for a break. Her Mary Janes clicked over the stone floor over to the bar and her honey smooth voice called to the barkeep for a cosmopolitan. The rosy drink appeared before her in even less time than Robert’s came to him, the barkeep apparently knowing her preferences all too well. 

She carefully seated herself a seat away from the other singer, her legs elegantly crossed at the ankles as she brought the drink up to her lips. Robert couldn’t help but let his eyes glance over towards her every few seconds, noticing new things about her now that she was closer. There was a diamond barrette pinning up the left side of her hair, a dainty ring circled around her middle finger, her nails were manicured a pale pink that matched the color of her drink, her upturned eyes were lined with a thin line of kohl. She cleared her throat and turned her head to face him, a hint of a smile on her face. He noticed now that her eyes were the rich color of brown garnets and shone warmly. 

“Can I help you?” She inquired in amusement. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare or anything.” 

“I’m just kidding you a little, don’t worry about it. Have you been here before?”

“New York or this place?” 

“Both.”

“New York, yes and quite a few times. Here specifically, no.”

“For business or pleasure?” 

His lopsided grin widened, “A mix of both occurred but the main reason was business.”

“What do you do?” She looked up at him through her long lashes as she finished off her drink.

“Same as you, just in a group and singin’ a different style of music.”

“Oh,” Her dark brows arched up. “I see it now that you mention it. You played the Garden last time you were here, yeah?”

He nodded cautiously and tried to remain neutral sounding to gauge her reaction, not fancying an evening of entertaining a starstruck fan after trying to avoid that very situation. But she didn’t seem to be treating him like some sort of god rather than a regular person the further they went into conversation, urging more detailed and personal replies from Robert. She was sweet, an attentive listener, and almost enigmatically charming in her rarely direct replies. Only two drinks and an hour of conversation later did he realize that he still didn’t know her name. Unfortunately, she also had to get back up on stage for a few songs at the very moment he asked for it.

“I’ll tell you when I’m done. Any requests?” She grinned, her smile dazzling as an old Hollywood starlet’s.

“Something by the Doors.” He quipped at her glamorous appearance against the juxtaposition of Jim Morrison’s stylings.

She rolled her eyes and opened with a Francoise Hardy number, singing to the lethargic audience with a different energy now that she was trying to entertain her new acquaintance. Her repertoire shifted through more blues-jazz pieces and her smooth, emphatic voice was perfect for it. It was strange, he could easily slip away back to the hotel at any moment and maybe he should’ve, given the late hour. But she was so magnetic, impossible to look away from really, that he didn’t even feel exhaustion creeping up on him as it usually did this long after a show had ended. He was enthralled and, quite frankly, fine with spending his whole night getting to know this stranger a bit more.

Her rendition of Blue Velvet faded with the long notes from the sleepy pianist and she nodded in acknowledgement to the lazy applauds of the audience. She traipsed over to the pianist momentarily, waking him with a new change to the night’s list of songs that she whispered into his ear before standing back at the microphone. With a coordinated nod between them, the piano began with a familiar staccato introduction – Moonlight Drive. Though the glamorous nightclub singer elongated the lines to match her style of singing better, a smile on her face as she sang directly to Robert as per his request. He cheered for her once the song had finished, whooping for her to take a bow until she gave a slight curtsy from the stage and scampered right back to the bar. This time, she sat right beside Robert.

He was going to thank her for working his joke into her schedule for the night and making a very beautiful, offhand cover of it, but she spoke first.

“Ruth.”

“What?”

“You wanted my name and I said I’d give it to you when I finished.” She explained then hastily brought a glass of a freshly made cosmopolitan to her lips.

“Ah, thank you for reminding me. Lovely name, suits you perfectly.”

He earned an eye roll and a smile.

“Do you work here every night? Must be exhausting.” 

“No, I take Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. There are other acts for the other days and the job pays the bills fine for the moment, so I just live on a nocturnal schedule.” 

“I see. So you aren’t a bit tired right now?”

Ruth shook her head, “Not at all. Why? Do you have plans to tire me out or take advantage of my backwards schedule?”

He grinned at her implications, “Not plans but ideas, certainly. Touring has quite its effects on sleeping schedules, you know.”

She chuckled, “I can imagine. So, are we playing checkers? Maybe competitive solitaire – who can win the game the fastest? Or Scrabble to see who has better diction as a singer, the person who writes their own lyrics or the person that sings other people’s words?”

“All very creative ideas, though not quite the same as I had in mind.”

Her eyes widened in false shock and she donned a Scarlet O’Hara accent: “My, my… how brash and forward of you, mister. As a lady of propriety, my reputation would simply disintegrate if I accepted such a proposition.”

They broke into fits of laughter the minute she finished with her response, Robert complimenting Ruth on her spot-on imitation of the Southern belle and inquiring if she’d ever considered acting. She rolled her big brown eyes with a bright smile again, scolding him for the flattery as she sipped the last bit of her drink. The expectant anticipation across his features signaled that he was still waiting for an actual answer to his proposition, hoping that the songstress would accept. She decided to feed her own desire to continue their interactions, enjoying the bantering nature between them and certainly no stranger to admiring thoughts towards the beautiful, talented singer. But she also couldn’t help wanting to lead him on a little longer just for fun.

“You know, I had plans for when I could leave this place for the night before you got here.” She informed.

“Oh really? With who?” 

The clipped edge of his tone reflected that Ruth had him exactly where she wanted him.

“Just spending the night with Max – he’s such a sweetheart, he’s been through almost everything with me since I moved here and stays up to greet me every night no matter the hour.” 

“What’s he do?” 

“Well, he’s very athletic and sings with me sometimes at home.”

“I see. Why isn’t he here? I mean, if he stays up to greet you, he might as well just come watch such a lovely lady bewitch the crowd and walk you home.”

“Dogs aren’t allowed in the building, silly.”

The deadpanned look of realization grew over his features, understanding that the girl had purposely spun the conversation just to get him under her thumb for a moment. He tried hiding the upturned ends of his lips, electing to do so by connecting them with hers while his hand reached to the side of her dolled-up face. Ruth smiled against him and let her hand rest over his strong shoulder as she leaned in closer. If his kissing was any indication of how he was as a lover, she sensed that it would be a very pleasant evening once she voiced her acceptance of his proposition. Her head was almost spinning with stars somehow shining in her lightly shut eyes, the wilder curls in his hair tickling the sides of her face. She almost forgot to breathe until her lungs began to sting and she pulled away breathlessly.

“In case that wasn’t clear enough, I’d be happy to join you in your late-night ‘ideas’ if you’ll still have me.” Ruth informed, stifling back a laugh at the burgundy tint of her lipstick now staining Robert’s lips and her mind wandering to lipstick stains she could leave elsewhere over him.

“I’ll certainly have you, darling. I’ve always fancied duets with other gifted artists such as yourself.” He grinned wolfishly as he brought her hand up to his lips, only then noticing the faint trace of wine red that transferred onto her bronzy skin. “And make sure you have your lipstick with you, I have a very specific idea I’d like to try.”

“You read my thoughts exactly.”


	108. holiday vignettes (led zeppelin x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Led Zeppelin x reader  
> Warnings: none
> 
> each one features a different holiday & i tried keeping it as open/universal as possible since it's a reader insert  
> happy winter holidays to everyone!!

Jimmy Page - Yule

The sky was almost entirely darkened by 4:15 in the late afternoon and the auspicious full moon was glowing in her complete glory. It was a comfortable early dusk since the rest of the day was spent decorating the house with garlands of holly and juniper as well as crimson-colored candles. We observed the gentle snowfall, eating forkfuls of the chocolate Yule log that we made and decorated together earlier in the day paired with a spiced cinnamon-clove tea. My candied orange slices shone like jewels after being taken out of the oven, delectable enough for Jimmy to try delicately lifting one right off of the baking sheet until I smacked his hand away. 

“Don’t you dare, you’ll burn your precious fingers.” I scolded.

He frowned, gently patting his battered hand for a moment then pulling me aside by the waist when I’d just turned away. My feet stumbled along with his urging, following him into the living room that was dressed up with all the festive decorations we laid out in the afternoon. I gave him a perplexed look, only to be silenced by his pointed-up finger over our heads. Following his gesture, my eyes glanced up to the ceiling and noted the little sprig of green tied up there with a little red ribbon that I hadn’t seen there before. I couldn’t help but grin in amusement as I looked back down at him. 

“Really, Jimmy?”

“Yes, Y/N. It’s very suitable for the holiday, you know, not just a trick.”

“Then get on with fulfilling whatever ritual goes with this. Though, I’m sure I can guess what it involves.” I grinned, happily anticipating the feeling of his lips on mine.

__________

John Bonham - New Years

Outside, the sky was erupting with fireworks and I was feeling them inside me with the impassioned touch of whiskey-tainted lips against mine. There were sharply dressed people all around us, glasses of champagne in everyone’s hands as they observed the spectacle in the sky. Midnight had passed, the twelve bongs and cracking fireworks signaling that a new year begun. Normally, we’d be more than happy staying in the seclusion of the farm to celebrate but things felt smoother with John and the last few months kept us homebound after a grueling tour. This was a nice change, the only people around being close friends and a relatively tame single night of roughhousing in store.   
But out on the balcony, it felt like we were the only people there aside from the cheering you could hear in the room, down the hall, and out in the streets – the whole city was celebrating. My smile widened impossibly as he spun me around in his strong, rough hands as a cheerful song played over the speakers and people drunkenly sang with the lyrics. His crooked smile and mystery-hazel colored eyes shone even more brilliantly than the stars above our heads. I felt more elated right in that dreamlike moment than I think I ever felt in my whole life. My lips collided with his again, then again, and again, I couldn’t get enough.

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you? Not that I mind at all.” He chuckled, body rocking joyously right up against mine as he held me closely. 

“I’m just wondering if there’s a private room here that isn’t filled with tipsy people, just ‘cause the drive back home will take hours and I’m not feeling particularly patient.” I hinted in his ear.

__________

John Paul Jones - Christmas

A fresh blanket of snow coated the usual lawn of green grass outside and it sparkled in the pale gold morning sunlight. The house was tranquil this early in the day, and each corner was decorated with delicate ornaments, earthy green garlands, twinkling lights, adorable figurines, unlit waxed candles, sparkling baubles, glittering ribbons, etc. that’d been otherwise collecting dust in the attic. I carefully shifted around the sheets and warm blanket, turning to look at a resting John. His features were completely relaxed and his cheeks were flushed pink, looking almost angelic with a sheen of bronze in his honey brown hair. My fingertips gently combed through it then traced over his lips and the different lines of his face, gradually (accidentally) coaxing him into consciousness. 

He hummed softly and his breathtaking ocean blue eyes looked to me, “Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hi, John. Merry Christmas.” I quietly cheered.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Y/N.” He said after a yawn. “Ready to go downstairs yet?”

“No, I have all I want here. A nice comfy bed, warm blanket, pretty view outside the window, and you.” 

His fingertips delicately caressed over my cheek with a hint of sarcasm in his tone: “Always such a sweetheart.”

“If I’m honest, I just don’t want to get cold by stepping out of bed.”

“Sounds about right.” John chuckled, lifting the thick blanket up over my shoulders more. “I can hardly blame you, though.”

__________

Robert Plant – Boxing Day/the second day of Christmas

Strider sat at our feet, too warmed by the living room fireplace and too sleepy to go outside in the cold snowbanks surrounding the house. We reminisced over the previous day on the sofa with mugs of steaming tea and fond smiles on our faces. Adorable little Jason clutching onto Pat’s legs as he waved to us, a snowman-building competition that resulted in Strider knocking them over, finally opening all the gifts in the afternoon, stuffing ourselves with mince pies, then spending the whole candlelit evening tangled up together under the warm blankets of the bed. It made for a late wake-up in the morning, the impatient goats bleating loud enough for us to hear them from the barn and rousing us to get dressed. As I hefted the small bale of hay and sack of grain into their pens, I turned to observe Robert doing the same – doting at his animals, combing through their fur, patting their heads, talking sweetly to each one of them, and all of them gathering near him to win more affection from him. It was like seeing a fairytale in real life. 

“Does anyone still celebrate Boxing Day in its original form, or I guess, intention?” I inquired, speaking out loud while combing out a stray piece of hay from a goat’s little white beard.

“I’m not sure, Y/N. Why’d you ask?”

“It’s a nice holiday, rather than just running off to shops for cheaper prices on things.” 

“Are you proposing to spontaneously go make deliveries to strangers?” 

“No, not today. Maybe next year though, just to plan things out and have it all arranged so you don’t have to worry about people recognizing you or anything.” 

He wrapped an arm over my shoulder loosely and pecked his lips to my cheek, “Such a compassionate soul. We’ll do it and start planning as soon as you like.”


	109. piece of my heart pt. 2 (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's a prostitute  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: I was asked in the comment section of the last part to continue it 

His heart was beating out of his chest again. Two months and a week of waiting was too damn long but also too short to be meeting face-to-face like this. The phone call was difficult enough and Jimmy felt fortunate that it had worked out, thinking that it was sheer luck that made him successful in his endeavor with his fumbled confessions of adoration. He still cringed at himself over the things he’d said so unplanned, choosing to rehearse exactly what he was going to say to Y/N when she arrived to avoid such embarrassment. The details of transporting her were easy enough to work out for him, as it only involved a call to G and vague explanation of what he wanted to accomplish. That call took place six days ago and Y/N was due to arrive at any minute.

Jimmy paced down the hallway by the front doors endlessly, the floor there probably stomped down an extra half-centimeter lower that the rest of the first floor with all his heavy steps over the past hour or so. His mind was racing with doubtful thoughts: what if she backed out last minute? What if she thought this was just him wanting to sleep with her because she was a good lay? He’d grown out a beard since then, what if she didn’t like it? What if the car driving her over got in a deadly accident and it would be his fault for dragging her out here? What if she was just kidding him during their phone call and didn’t want to show up anyways? What if she found someone else and ran off with them, completely forgetting Jimmy? What if she was just doing this to get paid? The whirlwind was driving him mad and it was only getting more intense by the minute. 

A rumbling sound of a car engine dragged him out of his brooding, the sleek white vehicle drawing nearer and nearer to his home through the fence of forest surrounding it. It felt like every cell in his body was spasming in anticipation, his nerves almost making him visibly tremble as his eyes remained fixed at the car through the window. He couldn’t see past the front seats and he couldn’t seem to move his feet from their position at the doorway. The terrible curiosity couldn’t be tamed until he saw Y/N, safe and sound, perfectly willing, as a guest, approaching his walkway to his home. At the halt of the car, he grew dizzy. The driver circled around to open the backdoor for the rider – a radiant Y/N with shining eyes taking in the large home before her. 

Jimmy couldn’t stand it any longer and just opened the doors, helplessly flashing a bright smile to greet her: “Wonderful to see you Y/N, so glad you’re here with me.”

“Oh Jimmy, how could I ever thank you for your generosity? Whatever you did to make this happen, it’s like a dream come true.” She replied, shaking her head in disbelief and gratitude marking her features.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders but broke away all too soon when the driver cleared his throat, asking where to place the lady’s luggage after carrying it out from the boot of the car. Jimmy insisted that anywhere was fine, too focused on the long-awaited arrival of Y/N to really care about such frivolous details. They remained side-by-side, quietly awaiting to be left alone in the house and finally have a chance to discuss everything that couldn’t be discussed in a simple phone call over the previous week. The driver soon cleared out, receiving a note of gratitude from Jimmy as wishes for a pleasant evening were exchanged. Once the front doors were shut and the car sped back down the road, Y/N turning to meet Jimmy’s wide-eyed gaze.

She sighed with a gentle smile, “It’s wonderful to see you again. I really did miss you, Jimmy.”

“As did I, my darling.” He caressed a hand across the side of her face. “How was your trip? Not too grueling, I hope.”

“Not at all, I spent the whole time reading and looking out the windows.”

“Would you like to rest for a while, or are you feeling up to taking a tour around the house?”

“Oh, I’m not tired at all and I’d love to see the rest of the house.” She grinned, her eyes roaming around the expansive and intricately decorated front room. 

The host kindly led Y/N around with a hand at the curve of her back, gesturing with the other hand at every art piece and motioning along to his explanations. She was attentive as she listened to his informative words – noticing the small details in paintings that he pointed out or asking questions to clarify the history of a furniture piece. Jimmy felt lightheaded at how impossibly perfect everything seemed to be lining up, especially her interest in all his knick-knacks. He actually felt bashful when they arrived at his majestically furnished bedroom and additionally explained that she would be staying there while he would remain in the living room. Y/N began to refuse, but he explained that the guest area wasn’t quite ready yet since there had been challenges in transporting the old furniture he purchased, and he hadn’t expected to be using the space so soon. 

“Jimmy, that’s ridiculous. I mean, we’ve slept together for a solid week and it’s not like either of us is particularly shy.” She reasoned.

“Well I don’t want it to seem like I brought you here to sleep with me.” 

“I know that. But it doesn’t mean we have to abstain completely just for you to prove your point. If anything, I should be staying downstairs on the sofa. Or sorry, the chaise lounge.” 

“No, I really must insist that you stay up here comfortably. It wouldn’t be right otherwise and I… I want to give you space because I don’t imagine that you get very much usually.”

Her face gazed at him with sweet adoration, “You’re too kind to me. I haven’t done anything to deserve such treatment and I appreciate your chivalry, but it really is perfectly alright.”

“Y/N- ”

She stubbornly refused to listen to him now, instead trying to win him over to her side of the argument. The tie at the waist of her loose wrap dress was untied and she climbed up to the foot of the bed right by where he was still standing. Mentally, Jimmy cursed himself and patiently gathered the rest of his resolve to try discouraging her again. Y/N merely gave him a look, her fingers brushing at his new beard and persuading him further with the reminder that she was the one getting him to bed her, entirely of her own volition. Jimmy nodded in consideration, his eyes discreetly gazing over her form and wondering how it was possible for someone to look so perfect. She must’ve known he was wrapped around her finger and chose to wear the sheer-paneled getup under her easy-to-remove dress to help win him over despite the chivalrous gentleman that kept him hesitant. 

“Oh baby, I- you can’t just do that. It’s unfair.” He whined.

She lied back as if posing for a magazine with feigned innocence written all over her face, “How so?”

He groaned quietly, knowing that he wasn’t going to win a battle against the side of himself that wanted to make up for all that lost time and especially not with Y/N helping. Her sly grin informed him that she knew it too, an outstretched hand tugging at his to draw him nearer and his feet helplessly trudging forward. He fell forth to his knees, crawling languidly up between her parted legs. 

“Did you wear these just for me?” He inquired, running the pads of his fingertips over the barely-there fabric on her torso.

“Of course. I had a feeling you might try to be needlessly gentlemanly and thought that a bit of… encouragement would be necessary on my part.”

“Such a clever girl.” He praised, his hands moving along the contours of her face. “I’ve missed you very much, love, and I think you’ve provided me with a perfect chance to demonstrate it.”

“Really? I can’t imagine what that must involve.” Y/N teased, angling her frame around to brush up right against him and her hands fiddling around with the restraints of his clothes. 

“It seems you’ve got a good idea with what your hands are doing.” Jimmy remarked, helping with her process and slipping his shirt off of his shoulders then moving to the buckle of his belt.

Her soft lips expertly grazed over his skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses from one shoulder to the other while his pale green eyes observed her and his hands slipped the belt off his trousers. But it wasn’t satisfactory enough – her fingertips drifting down his stomach and teasing just under the thick material covering the lower half of his body. They fumbled with the button then moved onto the zipper, and immediately slipped into the new space. Their warmth cupped, lightly squeezed, and otherwise fondled the noticeable tent that had formed there. The audible sigh that fell from his pretty pink lips was enough to express how much he was already aching for her touch and he planned for delivering full payback once he managed to get ahold of himself again.

“Hmm, I can see how much a certain part of you has missed me…” She grinned, sliding down under him so her face was more parallel to where her hands roamed.

“I missed you in more than one way, darling.” He reminded.

“I know, and I did too… but show me this way first.” She beseeched with a pouted lower lip, pressing kisses closer to where the zipper had been.

He was more than happy to indulge her wishes. His hand met her wandering one and brought it up to his lips, distracting her for a moment as he pulled her higher up. Repositioning himself over her, he gave himself a perfect angle to admire the provocative sight of her in a way where she couldn’t turn the tides so easily. His touch roamed across the thin fabric – starting at her shoulders, down over her chest, teasing the sensitive nipples protruding through the sheer material, pressing a smooth trail down her tautened stomach, only lingering between her legs, then resting his hand at her hip – trying to make her squirm even at the smallest of touches rather than rush right into it. Her heat radiated against the coolness of his hand as he let it creep down her abdomen again and the fabric had noticeably dampened; he truly had a way. 

“For missing someone terribly, you sure are taking your time.” Y/N remarked.

“Don’t you remember that I value patience very much? Disobey and you know what’s coming to you.”

“Of course, and I certainly remember how to maneuver you around too if you tease. Besides, who says I didn’t like your version of punishment?”

“New arsenal. I’m at home now, love.” Jimmy grinned.

Surprised realization dawned over Y/N’s features then morphed into excitement and she ceded to let Jimmy continue. This time, he leaned his face closer to her reclined, internally buzzing, frame and grazed his lips over the path his hand just traversed. A steady flame was stoked from the ministrations of his mouth, building off the small embers set within every cell of her body from his hands. Upon reaching her thighs, his hands parted them gently to allow his mouth more access with only his mischievous eyes flickering up to hers as a warning before diving in. Goddamn, this was worth every second of waiting to reunite.


	110. fantasy sequence (john paul jones x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x fem!reader who's his wife, takes place around '73  
> Warnings: none

request: "I was thinking if you could do a request connected with filming John's fantasy sequence for the Song Remains the Same. John and Y/N are married, they have two or three daughters, one German shepherd and on the beginning they aren’t sure about including kids and generaly their personal life in the film, but then they share some funny and cute moments during taping, like for example Jonesy trying to learn how to ride a horse and Y/N making fun of that, their kids being afraid of his strange mask, etc. And maybe some sweet ending only with Y/N and John🥰"

The old getup that was corseted around my torso and flowed down over my feet felt ridiculous. Sure, it looked pretty based on my reflection in the mirror but the scratchy material, millions of layers of underclothes, and purposely airtight fit made it dreadful to wear for more than ten minutes at a time. I stepped out of the makeshift dressing room they set up in my office to greet John, strutting out and giving him an overly dramatic selection of poses just to make him laugh. But my serious front was completely dissolved the minute I saw his costume – massive cape that he would definitely trip over, a carved mask with a silly (supposedly scary) face on it, a top hat, and a far too loose Victorian dandy-styled garb over the rest of him. I tried to stifle a laugh, knowing that this was technically his fantasy sequence completely devised to his vision and not wanting to offend him but, at the moment, it just looked too ridiculous.

“I-I’m so sorry, John, but what exactly are you going for with this, ah, video?” I tried to inquire between laughs that threatened to burst between my lips.

“Yeah, I know it seems a little absurd now… I just hope that with the special effects and the whole setting it looks less outlandish.”

“I’ll trust your word on that.” I said, shaking my head and following him out to where the camera crew awaited. 

Over a section of the fairly large grassy area on our property was now a dark village, one that apparently was devised for when the sun set in a few hours to get the right lighting effect. The makeup and hair stylists got to work on both of us, trying to consider the change in brightness when the cameras would be rolling as well as John’s vision of nothing too over the top. They already got footage of him messing around on the massive church organ with his elegant dandy blouse. The girls had taken their time studying the elaborate embroidery of the sleeves and making not-entirely-suitable song requests for their daddy to play on the instrument. I smiled to myself in memory of the previous day and how they danced around the otherwise vacant room to John’s impromptu take on their requests. 

By the time the makeup and hair were adequately done, the sun was already melting beyond the horizon into a pool of orange. It wouldn’t be long until the sky would darken entirely – meaning the camera crew would be ordering us around again. They carefully set John’s mask back over his face, then pointed to where I should begin my slow walk in the prop village and yelled at someone else to fetch another element for the video – a horse. I stopped in my tracks to turn back towards John, a questioning look on my face because he wasn’t exactly skilled at it and both of us knew it. He smiled sheepishly while slinging his legs up over the saddle.

“Remember the last time you tried riding?” I remarked with my hands on my hips.

“Absolutely, and I’ll still be avoiding a trampling this evening. Can’t promise I won’t fall off again but I doubt it’ll happen.”

I gave him a look, holding my hands up in surrender and marching back to my “spot”. There was a lamp placed a few feet away to provide some brighter lighting through the darkness of the late hour so my face and form would actually be visible; a few others were also placed out of camera view but close enough to John’s track so people could see what was going on. The first take was cut off in less than ten seconds, the horse standing in place as John couldn’t get it to take off running up the small hill. Once that problem was solved, a new one arose that lasted for more than just one take: John was skittish and the horse could sense it. They would move backwards, take off speeding, barely move from the spot, or stop halfway through the run. John’s limited sight from the mask didn’t help much either, but at least he hadn’t fallen off. 

Finally, the horse-riding went smoother and he made it over to the prop village where I walked on a fake stony path at a tortoise’s pace. His riding slowed, the cameras pointed between his ominous presence and my curious countenance for a short interval of time just until John passed me. The crew applauded, happy enough that the riding part was under control that time and not fretting too much over the rest of it. But then they inquired what to do for the rest of the sequence, explaining that Robert’s and Bonzo’s were far longer so they couldn’t just use footage from the concert to fill the rest of the space. John looked to me for ideas, the grotesque expression of the mask making me crack up for a moment before proposing a scene where he takes it off and reveals himself to me or something along those lines.

“What about your family? We can have a nice domestic scene; the others have a bit of that going on so it might be a nice addition.” One of the crew members piped up.

“I- well, Y/N, what do you think?” He asked, seeking my approval since we were both slightly hesitant to have the girls involved in band business. 

“Let’s do it. Just a short scene where you come home and take the mask off so you don’t look so strange. I think it’ll be fine and you need the extra time in the film anyways.”

He nodded in confirmation, bringing the whole crew inside the house where the girls had been peeking out of the windows to see what in the world was going on with their costumed parents. The gleeful German Shepherd joined their ranks, staring up at her approaching masters with a wagging tail and also eyeing the horse still standing outside. A few of the crew people were asked to act as staff people, as those were the only other costumes left, and the girls were changed into some frilly white nightgowns so they’d all match. The plan was that John would enter through the doors, remove the hat then the mask, have the girls run in first, maybe the dog if she cooperated, the staff people would remain to the side, and then I would cut through the crowd. Everyone understood their instructions and cues, so the filming began again. 

Someone called action and we all stood in our places – John at the ajar doorway while the rest of us peeked around the edge of the hallway so we could see what was going on. But even before there was a chance for John to step inside and remove some of the costume, a cry broke the scene. I immediately looked around to investigate, seeing the youngest in tears with her finger pointing to the “scary man” coming into the house and hiding her face in my dress. Poor thing didn’t recognize that it was her own father who was behind it. John quickly took it off then rushed to my side to comfort her, explaining that it was like Halloween and this was just part of the whole costume. He put it up to her tiny face so she could see what he meant, acting as though absolutely terrified of the masked little girl until she was giggling again. 

“See? It’s not scary and I’ll take it off just there at the door, okay?” He asked, crouching down to her height as he took it back.

She nodded and threw her small arms around his neck as an apology before the camera crew corralled him back into position for filming the scene over again. The cameras started rolling, a crew member pointing silently to John as cues for when to remove his hat and mask then turning to us as a signal for us to begin our cascade of welcomes. Leaning down, I whispered to the girls to start running over to their daddy and took the dog’s collar in my hands as her tail wagged against my dress. The girls were perfect, running with skips in their steps through the length of the hallway and hugging at John’s legs with bright smiles as he lifted the littlest one up in his arms. I let the dog’s collar go and she followed after the girls’ path over to John. Then it was my turn to go, elegantly floating across the smooth floor with the skirt so long that my feet weren’t visible. The crew members poised as staff flanked me, also delighted to see him.

We gathered all around him and the minute I was close enough, he wrapped a cloaked arm over my frame to pull me in closer. Our daughters were still formed all around us and the one still up in his one arm. Before I could tell where it was going, his lips pressed over my smile and I felt myself leaning in closer without any mind to the strangers around us; they certainly captured a domestic, private scene. My head leaned over his shoulder when we parted and truly smiled, warmed at the sight of all of us gathered together in a sweet way that was finally cooperative to his rambunctious profession. He pressed a kiss to my forehead then leaned down to give the other girls his affection, including the loyal dog who gave his cheek a big wet lick and made everyone burst into laughter. Needless to say, the crew didn’t require any more takes of the scene for the film.


	111. satisfaction guaranteed (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's his wife, takes place in 2007-ish  
> Warnings: nsfw
> 
> assisted by @sacramentogirl23 on tumblr!

request: "hi I was wondering if you could do a smut for older jimmy page with his wife(the reader) where he takes Viagra for the first time? Thank u!! "

Filming all the different segments and scenes for the film was fun, nostalgic even, but still a bit grueling. It didn’t have to be as staged but with all the travel, meeting with the other two guitarists, telling all the other stories, and practice that went into it was enough to make him sleep in the very next free day he had when the project had been concluded. The next afternoon, after the crew had a night to double-check all their material, he’d be on his way back home to Y/N from the area by Headley Grange with all his music equipment following behind. It was a pretty short time for a film to be made but there were a lot of scenes filmed individually and just the one time that they all met together, though it took just over a month for them to take care of everything involving him. Unfortunately, Y/N wasn’t able to make it for that whole interval of filming and missing her had only grown worse as days passed by between the short periods where she could come visit him along the way. 

All of it had culminated up to the next morning, making for a very temperamental Jimmy who sat a little too silently at the table and nodded mindlessly to what was being said. He missed her different smiles, her eyes that told him everything she was thinking, her scent that could make his head spin, her unassuming postures as she went about her day, her emphatic voice in all its many contexts. It was going to be a long day, and he hoped to cure it with an equally long, more enjoyable, night. Instead of listening to the repetitive conversation, he began to ponder how to go about his homecoming in regard to his wife. Definitely bring back something that signified how he was thinking of her, not worry about any of the luggage until the morning after, and whisk her right off her feet upstairs. He bit back a grin as he remembered a particularly… yearning, phone call he had with   
Y/N just a week prior and how she used all her capability to tease him, while also making clear that she missed him as much as he did her. 

The film crew sitting at the table caught onto their subject’s body language, deciding that perhaps they shouldn’t prod too much further at him and just let him get on with his day after dedicating so much of his time to their project. They bid Jimmy a good afternoon, saying that everything went well, and it was a delight to work with him. He returned their kind gestures as unhurried as he could manage then had everything promptly arranged to get back home. But during his period of waiting, an idea came into mind. He had quite a bit of time to ponder exactly how he wanted the evening to go and it would require a lot more energy or time than he usually dedicated – he wanted to have assurance that all of his plans would come to fruition and, quite frankly, he was open to trying anything to assist in that effort despite any past, or even present, doubts about certain common remedies to his predicament. So a quick stop to a fairly discreet shop was necessary before instructing the driver to take him back home. 

Jimmy checked over both his shoulders before reaching for the package, reading over the instructions and warnings to judge the idea further. No harmful side effects to him in his perfectly healthy condition. No mood-altering effects. Just a bit of a rush in blood pressure but nothing dangerous. There was still a lingering doubt in the back of his mind but there was really nothing to lose, so he took the package off the shelf and steadily walked over to a self-checkout machine to avoid anyone muddling around his personal business. He had his luggage and mass of equipment taken care of, then he was off on his way back home. All the grey-tinted scenery outside whizzed by unnoticeably as he pondered whether he should take the pills sitting heavy in his pocket. It took him a full ninety minutes in this daze of thoughts to finally say fuck it, open the package, pop the robin’s egg blue pill in his mouth, and drink it down with a sip of water. Ten minutes and he was supposed to be home, new thoughts in his mind of how best to begin the evening with his long-awaiting wife. 

Surprisingly, he was already turning the corner to his home just three minutes later – no new effects from the pill quite yet. Y/N was standing at the door when he stepped out of the car, waving in greeting after seeing the car driving up the long road to the house through the window. Their arms wrapped around each other tightly, lips immediately meeting but chastely for the sake of the driver who was still nearby to carry in some of the suitcases. The music equipment was carefully brought in as well, left in the expansive entry way for the evening. Jimmy thanked them as a means of dismissal and they clearly got the message. 

Only as he stepped inside and shut the heavy wooden door did he feel the pill kicking in, surprise momentarily painting his features. His face flushed and the deceptively innocent smile Y/N flashed him roused ripples of heat through his stomach, causing an effect that didn’t come with the pill. But how could he help it? Her hands slithered around his lower back as she pressed into him and the warm smile turned to a wicked grin with mischievous eyes when she felt him against her. It was perfect agony as they stood together just past the doorway, a desirous need growing between them and their feet eager to move away to a more private room. Y/N leaned to peck his lips once more and awaited his command, a sliver of consideration that he might be tired in her mind.

“I’ve missed you terribly.” She confessed. “Nothing’s quite the same when you’re not with me.”

“I know just what you mean, darling, but it’s over now.”

“So then what are you waiting for?” Her brow quirked in challenge.

Jimmy didn’t want to waste a single half-second longer and whisked her up the staircase with him, forgetting the luggage needing to be unpacked. He didn’t bother to close the door – no one else could possibly disturb them – and clothes went flying off between their increasingly desperate kisses until they were both left bare. Hands tangled into hair, explored over the other’s familiar body, teased sensitive points, and pulled impossibly closer. Y/N coaxed Jimmy into separating so she could kneel at his feet, requesting an opportunity to demonstrate how much she’d really missed him and make up for all the time apart. Her hands, tongue, and lips took care of him in just the perfect way with memorized precision, no teasing needed to drive him right up to the edge with such intimate knowledge of what drove him mad. She wanted to taste him on her tongue, but he pulled her back by the hair too soon.

“Not fair if you don’t get any attention.” He pointed out, gesturing a hand for Y/N to lie down at the foot of the bed. 

“Someone’s very eager.” Y/N remarked with pleased amusement as his mouth made immediate contact with her dripping center and not bothering to tease either. 

Her head rolled back and her lips parted instantly to intake as much air as she could gather into her breathless lungs. It felt like flames licked at her in a pleasing burn while her wide eyes observed Jimmy lapping at her, as though starved or possessed and she was the only salvation. Her scent, taste, and gasps flooded his senses with something that felt like a lightning strike – aching, only below his navel, and otherwise buzzing all over. Patience ruled his actions, waiting to get at least one orgasm out of her first before pursuing other things. Though, it didn’t take too much longer with the combination of his silver tongue and gifted fingers, easily finding her weak spot that made her muscles clench as a cry ripped from her throat. It was a devilishly beautiful sound and Jimmy drew back pridefully with a glistening mouth. 

“It never fails to amaze me how you can make me lose control like that.” She heaved through breaths as she lied back over the bed. 

“It took practice, and it’s my pleasure.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her thigh. 

“What else do you have in mind?” She inquired with curious eyes.

“Surprises. All I can say is that I won’t be done with you anytime soon.”

A smile was the reply he received. Y/N shifted more towards the center, knowing how most of these games worked by now and proving the point further by holding up her wrists to him. Jimmy kissed them first, then reached for some kind of binding material for them and tied them up well at her stomach with a silky scarf he no longer wore. She waited patiently while he turned to rifle through the back of a particular drawer, locating the sought-out item and locking her ankles into a comfortable distance apart with it. Now he could see that she was aching for more just as badly as he was and couldn’t attempt to hide the evident arousal between her legs. 

“A tame start.” He proclaimed to her while easing into a kneeling position between her thighs.

Jimmy finally gave into his endless desire to just take her, pushing into her gradually so they could both feel every inch. A soft moan hummed at Y/N’s lips and she kept her eyes locked on his, her body just barely shifting in response to his terribly slow pace in hopes to try pushing him further into her faster. His rough fingertips gingerly smoothed over her stomach and along the side of her hips, trying not to rush too hard into something so perfect until he remembered that’s what the pill had been for. He jolted into a quicker pace, making sure to brush right up against that sensitive spot within her so she would fight against her restraints and make those frenzied sounds even louder for him. 

“Ji- Jimmy, fuck! Too fas-st.” Y/N managed to murmur with her eyelids creased shut and breathy voice.

“Too fast for you? I thought that’s what you wanted, love?”

“Please.” She begged.

Gently, he fulfilled her request and savored how she felt around him. But he wanted to kick things up a notch now that she made him slow down so drastically. With his help, Y/N was repositioned around onto her stomach – tied hands up over her head, face pressed up against the fabric of the duvet, and spreader bar weighing her feet down. First, she felt nothing for a while. Then the smooth, slightly wettened feeling of his cock running along her ass, like a preparatory tease, until the snapping sting of a different material smacked over her flesh. A scream helplessly tore from her throat and she tried to wriggle away from the next strike of the small whip in his hand. He eased away the pain with his occupied hand, sliding the leathery tool along the pained skin and choosing an unexpected moment to strike again. It was making that ache come back to him, the one that was only soothed by entering her and giving into impatience. After the fifth strike, he slipped into the temptation and felt relief in the walls clenched around his length, made even tighter in this position. The whip remained in hand to be used once he’d grown re-accustomed to this level of pleasure.

“Ah! Fuck, Jimmy, do that again.” She groaned out sharply after a harder hit to her stinging skin.

“I couldn’t possibly deny that request. But what do we say?”

“Please.”

Another strike to her ass, earning a scream that was soon followed by a pleased moan. All of it was bringing them both to a climax, crawling up to the peak of bliss with every sensation and unrestrained reaction. Y/N’s fingers grasped at anything and fisted the pillowcases tightly, feeling her whole body go rigid just before the dam broke all over her husband’s cock. He followed soon: forcing himself to push through and fight into that immense buzz awaiting him, driven right over the edge when Y/N soaked him with a whined cry. He pulsed inside her until she was filled to the brim, and even then he wasn’t done thanks to his earlier decision with that pill that guaranteed him at least another forty-five minutes of expelling all of the pent-up desire he’d built up from being away so long. 

Sensing only his pause rather than a full stop, Y/N turned to face him as best as she could to ask: “What’s gotten into you? Not tired yet?”

“Not at all, I said I missed you and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Are you tired?”

“No, just pleasantly surprised. You look a little flushed but I’m more than happy to keep going at this, however you want me.”

“In every way possible, my love.”


	112. the wonder-wall (john paul jones x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Paul Jones x fem!reader who's a model & featuring Jimmy as a friend  
> Warnings: voyeurism but not in a totally creepy way
> 
> based on the 1968 film "Wonderwall" but not exactly the same story

New neighbors had moved into the flat that shared a wall with John’s almost two weeks ago – a multicolored duet proudly wearing all sorts of whimsical, psychedelically-swirled clothes and hauling up furniture to match. One was a lanky, dark-haired man that carried around at least three guitar cases through the door as though they were the most valuable artifacts in the world. The other was a girl with expressive eyes and something indescribably magnetizing about her, even in the complete silence he’d observed her in. He didn’t mind how they decorated themselves or their home as long as he could do his composing work in peace and get along with them fairly well. 

John sat at his desk, writing away with just a yellowed lamp illuminating the beige sheets of blank sheet music as he turned occasionally to tinkle at the piano softly before scribbling down another measure. The sky outside turned black an hour ago, at least. He had yet to fix himself something to eat or drink, in a haze of concentration in order to finish with the piece having the same energy he started it with. There were at least four other scores he had to finish over the next day so he simply couldn’t put off the work just because his eyes were weary. He was working through the final chord progression, trying to find some way to make it interesting as his fingers experimented on the keyboard, then he heard it… coming through the wall in a foreign-sounding song. When his head turned, there was a hole right in the middle of the shared wall glowing with a white-rainbow light that he was sure hadn’t been there before. 

He noted down the last few notes of the measure then carefully stood up to investigate, pressing his eye up to the hole and seeing through the light. It was like a rainbow painted over the whole room. The deep blue backwall was painting with vivid, saturated colors in the forms of goddesses, stars, planets, sigils, butterflies, swirls, stars, and concentric circles. Yellow and purple-striped ceramic pots sprouted various green herbs. Thick pink and green cushions lined with gold coin beads were placed on the floor instead of sofas with white fur rugs between them. The girl was lying over a fluffy rug as though posing: her expressive eyes outlined with a cloud of gold makeup, a gold headpiece crowning her, a sheen of almost see-through teal fabric covering her reclining frame. There were a few clicks and she changed positions, still keeping the whisper of fabric draping over her body no matter how she moved – she must’ve been a model while the dark-haired man behind the camera was her photographer.

“This has to be a dream.” John muttered to himself, rubbing his tired eyes as he stepped away from the hole and sending himself off to bed before his mind could send him any other bizarre visions. 

But even in true sleep, he only saw more of what his mind imagined about the wall. The man was flashing into different parts of the now-smokey room at lightning speed with his   
camera clutched up to his face. A bronze light illuminated a portion of the mural wall where the girl posed in a delicate, glittering teal gown and fine gold jewelry shining along her skin in the light. At first, it didn’t seem like she noticed any additional observers. But then her arms outstretched in John’s direction, not her photographer’s, and she beckoned him closer with a nod. Her warm smile was impossible to refuse so his feet stepped closer and closer, until her hands found his shoulders. The room seemed to spin around into a multicolored pinwheel and the dream disappeared as John awoke disoriented with an ache in his forehead. Back to the piano and composing.

Things were much smoother from that point of John’s day as he worked through two more scores and had them done by lunchtime, giving him a perfect resting point. He made himself a plate of leftover food and some tea that he took out to his desk, sitting back to let his gaze linger further towards the window then around to that shared wall. From this distance, he didn’t notice a hole in it. Perhaps he really did dream it all up out of exhaustion. As he finished up his meal mindlessly, he stepped over to the wall and didn’t notice anything but a crooked picture frame that he reached up to fix as he stood up on a stack of thick books. When his hand pulled the frame back just a hair away from the wall, there was a strange reflection of pink light from behind it. John removed it completely and noticed a new hole hiding behind it. He was utterly dumbfounded, but peeked through it.

The room was different: entirely plain save for the back wall being covered in greyscale photographs of glamorous actresses from the previous few decades. Various props and a rack of wearable items were placed off to the side. The girl was wearing a big cinnamon-brown wig coiffed into perfectly corkscrewed pigtails tied together with white ribbons, a springy green minidress over her form as she sat crisscrossed on a pink cushion. Her eyes were only lined with fluffed false eyelashes and a flick of black eyeliner this time. A friend joined her in a matching black wig and a pale pink minidress. They posed together while a different photographer with long, blonde hair plaited into a single braid took their photos. The trio of women each looked like dolls with such a made-up setting and their made-up appearances. It was impossible to look away from them. Their forms swirled around the room as though they were strange dancers, occasionally stopping in poses then moving after a few snaps of the camera. 

John droned through his work after finally stepping away again. When he checked for the two holes in the wall after a few hours passed, they had disappeared. The psychedelic fantasy across the wall was gone, like a dream fading into reality when one woke up from a deep sleep. He felt a bit strange peeking into other people’s private flats, but he couldn’t quite tell whether it was real or not. Any evidence he had of seeing through to the room vanished before he could make sure anything that he saw through it was real. The wild nature of the sights didn’t help confirm or deny his vision either, always involving something so far from domesticity or normality that he couldn’t believe in it. It truly was a wonder-wall. 

There was a crimson-glowing hole towards the base of the wall in the night just before John made it to bed. He leaned down, lying on his stomach over the vacant floor and seeing the girl dressed in white from head to toe with only a red flower-embroidered waistline. Her hair was left natural, her makeup was light, and she was barefooted as always. The dark-haired man was nowhere to be seen, at least at John’s angle of sight. She held a shining red apple up by her face and parted her lips slightly, gazing up into the bright white light above her. Then her eyes flickered down to meet John’s, winking almost too quickly to be seen and smiling cleverly as a message that she saw him. She took a bite of the apple, leaning her head back as she savored its sweet flavor while its juice trailed down her arm. There was a snap of a camera and John backed away, forcing himself to bed only to dream of the girl again. 

A knock came at the door the next afternoon. John got up to open it after revising all of the scores he’d worked on through the past two days, not really enjoying the relaxing point of a weekend when his work bled into all his free time. Behind the door stood the dark-haired man, donning a purple velvet jacket and poet’s blouse reminiscent of the late 19th century. The pants he wore matched the color of his jacket, but they also had glittering swirls over them. His jade green eyes seemed more intense with the contrasting vivid purple of his clothes and the blackness of his waved hair. 

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’ve come to warn you that there might be some noise over through the walls. My friend and I are having a party with some other friends and, say, would you like to join us?” The man smiled warmly.

“Oh, sure. I don’t think we’ve properly met before, my name’s John.”

“I’m Jimmy. The girl who lives with me is Y/N, she’s a model. I do photography, mostly out of convenience for her, and other art projects with some studio work on the side.”

“I work at the studios around here as well. I usually write scores or add various instruments on tracks.”

“That’s great! We’ll probably brush shoulders a lot more often then.” He remarked, enthusiastically shaking his neighbor’s hand. “Well, I’ll leave you to freshen up and whatever else. Come by early as you want, you’ll meet Y/N.”

John gave him a parting wave and shut the door; his mind instantly slammed with thoughts of what the hell did he agree to. The girl, Y/N, definitely saw him last night and Jimmy’s story only seemed to confirm that it wasn’t a dream. It certainly explained what he was seeing, and he had no idea what he would tell Y/N if she brought it up. He was a goddamn peeping Tom and she had every right to say it. Maybe he wouldn’t go. Just feign an illness or sudden call to work. But Jimmy would know better with his knowledge of the studios and having just seen him in perfect health. Well, he’d have to tell the truth. And shit, what to wear? It was clear that his fairly plain taste would only clash against their swirls of candy-colored, glimmering, ephemeral clothes. Sure, he had a few colorful things but he’d never worn them together before. Tonight was the night, he supposed.

He arrived at his neighbors’ doorstep a half-hour later. His hair was combed into place, fraying at his ears at a longer length than he’d been previously used to. He wore a white chiffon blouse with some sort of green pattern along the hems and matching green trousers, unable to find a historic-looking jacket to copycat Jimmy’s ensemble. The silver ankh and shorter elaborate silver chain around his neck would have to make up for it. Jimmy opened the door with a welcoming smile, waving him inside and offering any drink or other substance he pleased. The small entrance hall was plain and dark but opened up to a kaleidoscope of a living room with similar paintings as the ones he saw before but they were even larger with more brightly colored furniture spotted through the space.

“I know some people think the design’s a bit loud but it’s a lot nicer than flowery old wallpaper.” Jimmy began to explain.

“It’s very interesting and I can see why you like it, as an artist.” 

“Who’s that?” A voice called from a different hallway leading into where the men stood.

“It’s our neighbor that we share a wall with.” Jimmy answered.

Y/N arrived in the costuming of a sylphide, gossamer fabrics layered over her form loosely and a silvery headpiece that met at her forehead in a luminescent opal. She gave him that same clever smile, a brow raised in amusement as she offered her hand to him and introduced herself by name. John’s voice grew softer, unable to find it for a moment as he took her in – this time knowing that it was reality and in such proximity. Jimmy placed an arm over his back to lead him through the rest of the flat, showing off the art he had done in a frenzy over the past two weeks with Y/N’s help. A few of the rooms were sliced in style, offering multiple backgrounds for photoshoots depending on what kind of work they had to do. John finally understood the trick to how he saw different views through just the one holey wonder-wall. 

“And, finally, here’s where we spend most of the time outside of work.” Jimmy proclaimed, leading into the largest room of all.

There was a tall platform in the middle of the cushion-and-candle-dotted floor with stairs that led up to its surface – a quasi-loft for a plush bed that was just as colorful as the rest of the home. A round stained-glass window of a split moon and sun glowed above it as a Japanese kite swirled around mid-air from where its string was attached on the ceiling. It was like a wonderland of mystic figures and whimsical things, the regular flat in a boring flat building was dressed up to transport its dwellers away from reality. John could see the appeal of such an outrageously unusual design and how its owners dressed accordingly, separating themselves from dullness or grimness by making their lives the exact opposite. Jimmy proudly took in John’s impression of the space before leading him back to where Y/N was waiting for them, a stack of records at her side while she stood against the wall as though she were part of the painting.

“Well, how did you find it?” She questioned wryly.

“It’s one of a kind, takes you out of the gloominess of the rainy sky outside and monotony.” John replied, hoping she would appreciate the more thoughtful answer.

“I’m very glad you think so. Would you mind if I… tried something on you?”

“You’re in trouble.” Jimmy teased from his path towards the kitchen.

John paid him no mind and followed the impulsive response in his mind: “Sure.” 

Y/N took him by the hand and pulled him through a different hall, her butterfly wing sleeves waving behind her enchantingly. She led him into a well-lit, fairly large bathroom – it was like an old Hollywood vanity, triple the size, and painted in flashes of rainbows. John was instructed to sit down while she rifled through the drawers, taking out precisely the right tools for her next artistic venture. Various pencils and powders were set atop the counter as she flitted between cabinets. Her hands deftly worked over his eyes and along his features, swiping a little bit of this or that onto his skin then smoothing some of it away into just the right shape. She stepped away, revealing an unfamiliar John with the faintest tint of burgundy around his eyes, the slimmest line of kohl around their shape, and a haze of turquoise in a tiny arched peak between his brows. 

“There, now you’re perfect for the party.” She praised. “Unless you don’t like it?”

“No, it’s different but I can’t say I don’t like it. Are you going to do Jimmy next?”

“Absolutely not, he won’t let me anymore unless I want him to throw all these out in retaliation. We’re like squabbling siblings that taunt each other endlessly but never intending or doing much harm.” 

“So, you’re just good friends?” 

Her lips very slightly turned up and her eyes met John’s in the mirror, “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“No reason at all.” He shrugged.

“Alright then, up you go. Let’s show you off to Jimmy.” She directed and took his hand; her tone fell neutral while her eyes said that they caught onto exactly why John asked his question. 

To say he was amused would’ve been an understatement – not because of the change to John’s appearance but rather his unsure countenance and hesitant experimentation. Jimmy assured that he looked just fine, complimenting his neighbor on his angular yet soft facial structure and his adaptability to Y/N’s whims. He smiled bashfully and muttered a quiet “thanks”, trying to think of any other way to stir the conversation away only to be saved by the ring of the doorbell. Y/N quickly set a record into the player, unleashing an atmospheric and expressive instrumental track of dhukars, shehnais, tapped drums, tambourines, and finger bells. The emptiness of the room only made the music echo even louder as guests began to file in, dressed in similar garbs to their hosts. Swirling green light projectors were turned on as the light from the windows slowly extinguished as the sun set. The colorful scene with its matching actors looked almost like a circus to John, as the bystander.

A redheaded woman danced in the middle of the room to entertain everyone, contorting her body in impossible ways to the rhythm of the music and swaying a delicate scarf around to accentuate her movements. John seated himself on a plain blue cushion, simply taking it all in through his amazed senses as though he stepped into a nether realm rather than into his neighbors’ home. He took a few hits off a joint being passed around, seeing the smoke from it curl thickly into the air overhead and only adding to the mystical nature of their setting. But his thoughts were interrupted at the observation that Y/N had vanished from her post at the record player and wasn’t anywhere else in this room. John cautiously stood up from his seat and skirted his way through the tranquil partygoers to search for her. 

Not in the kitchen where people were mixing all sorts of concoctions with whatever they found. Not in the locked vanity bathroom that he was made-up in earlier. Not in the photography room where some guests were carefully rifling through the stylish items Y/N was meant to model. Not in any of the dark halls where people were leaned up against the walls with a partner and sharing a hushed conversation. That left John to cautiously venture into the private bedroom, finding the door shut but her voice answered when he knocked at it and beckoning him inside. She was lying down on the floor with her head resting on a decorative pillow, a smile forming over her lips but seemingly forced. John made his way closer to her and sat down near her reclining form.

“Hello again.” She sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

She sat up, the ethereal evening light streaming over her and the gossamer material on her frame so she almost looked like a fairy.

“Nothing, I just get into these blue moods sometimes when there’s so many people around. It’s part of the reason why there’s a makeshift studio here, a lot less people grabbing at me and critiquing me while Jimmy just gives me freedom to do whatever as long as it’s somewhat in-line with what he wants.”

“Are you sure it’s the right profession for you? It seems taxing.” 

“Of course. I think I’ll just grow used to it gradually and let things just happen as they will.”

“Do you want to get some air?”

“I think that would be wise.” She smiled, standing up then offering her hands out to help him up. 

A pair of tall boots were zipped up her calves and she took his hand to sneak outside. Jimmy was busy conversing with a gathering of people that seemed to hang onto his every word and didn’t notice their absence. The air was cool and breathable when they burst through the building doors, wandering the lamplit streets in their costumed looks and receiving odd looks from passersby. They found themselves in a manicured garden park with a cool pond reflecting the soothing blackness of the sky and its twinkling stars. No one else was around at the fairly late hour, allowing the two quieter personalities to let go without any available judgement. 

Y/N began to run through the lawn besotted with rosebushes, somehow avoiding catching her foot in her loose clothes and spinning around to her heart’s content. John began to chuckle at her sudden change in mood but began moving his feet faster and faster when she pivoted around, starting her sprint towards him. He made it around a fountain and through a narrow pathway into a discreet area at the other side of the pond, lilies springing up all around the hedges. His heart was electrified and pounding in his chest the way it did when he was just a boy playing tag with his friends. But she was too quick, pouncing right up onto his back with her arms around his neck and a melodious laugh helplessly falling from her lips.

“Got you.” She teased when her laughs subsided.

“You’re a very quick runner.” He commented, taking her arm and twisting around to face her.

“I should hope so, I liked running to clear my head or just to get some air and did it all the time.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

She leaned forward to peck the tip of his nose, “Thank you for coming outside with me.”

His hand found itself caressing the side of her expressive face, a silent message of his adoration to that genuine and kind expression she had. The moonlight cast a magical glow over her, a wild briskness having perfectly ruined the pin-neat appearance she usually kept up and a true smile on her lips. A lamp behind them made her eyes shine like they were illuminated by stars. She truly was a wonder to behold and an unopened book that John was dying to slowly read the pages of as they flipped open to him. Her perceptive eyes seemed to catch the altering channel of thoughts in his head and she responded accordingly: crashing her lips to his before he could try to stop her and rationalize through it, as she predicted he would.

And he did, though not immediately. He was utterly taken aback but let himself enjoy the feeling of soaring for a few moments before his sense kicked in and made him step back. Y/N gave him a knowing look but stayed silent while he tried to formulate words. John only managed syllables and the occasional cut-off word, ending his unfinished narrative with a confused sigh. The girl only broke into a grin and took his face into her hands, brushing back strands of his hair that fell into his face during their chase.

“Is something wrong?” She questioned.

“Why did you do that?” 

“Is that accusative or inquisitive?”

“Inquisitive.”

“Because I wanted to. And I could see that you did too. Was I mistaken?”

His eyes fell to the grass at their feet, “No.”

“Then what’s the problem? Are you with somebody?”

“No. I just don’t know how you can kiss a stranger or why you just… did that.”

She laughed, “You’re thinking too much. I was happy because of something you did, I’m somewhat perceptive to people’s thoughts, and what’s wrong with showing appreciation or some form of love for someone who made you happy?” 

“Well that’s exactly it – what is it supposed to mean? Just something offhand? Or was it a gesture with some kind of purpose behind it?”

“Whatever you want it to be.” She said with a gentle shake of her head, breaking free and taking off running again before he could pick apart something as simple as a kiss as though it were a philosophical theory.

He remained standing by the pond a while longer, gazing at the sky’s reflection and mulling over it while also trying to stop himself from overthinking it all. Y/N’s calls of his name made his feet move from their places to go seek her out. She’d ventured up onto a lofty tree branch and swung down from it like a gymnast right in front of where a perplexed John stood. Her hand caught his wrist and spun him around as they glided across the lawn back in the direction of the flat building. But she didn’t return to her own home, instead electing to follow John if he permitted her to stay the night with him and he couldn’t possibly refuse. 

Y/N admired all of his musical paraphernalia, not daring to touch anything, and curled up over the sofa after pulling off her constricting boots. With a final peck to his cheek, she fell asleep peacefully and instantly. He drew a blanket over her drained form. It allowed John some time to observe the unique character who made herself a guest to him, noticing details of her appearance and consider her circumstances. She lived in and dressed herself in line with a fantasy world. Her career was based around always being dolled up, observed through a camera, and critiqued no matter how she looked. She didn’t like being around the parties of fashionable people that came to their flat and were supposed to be her friends. Her only true friend seemed to be Jimmy, who came panicked an hour later when the crowd dissipated to check if John had seen her and was relieved to know she was asleep in his living room. He was too tired to say much more and left John alone to his ponderings as he revised his scores, now incorporating elements of the micro-intervals or slight dissonances of her music. She'd made a noticeable, indescribable impact on him that reflected in his musical works and freed him from the strict constrains of thinking in rigid labels or understanding every last detail of everything.


	113. news (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader, around 1987  
> Warnings: pregnancy & a little nsfw

request: "Can u possibly do some fluffy imagines with 80s jimmy and his wife the reader being pregnant with their first child and Jimmy’s a bit nervous"

The pallor from his already-pale face vanished as he realized the full meaning of my gesture. His eyes were wide and his jaw fell slack. I’d prepared a little box for when he returned home with just a card congratulating him on fatherhood and a positive test as evidence, a signed doctor’s note in my pocket in case he still didn’t believe it. His features were painted with excitement and apprehension, completely understandable for two people who’d never faced such a situation before. Wordlessly, he took my hands in his and kept his eyes on me as though searching for words in my knowing face.

“H-How?” He finally managed to utter out, not quite capturing what he intended to say.

“I think you know how this happened.” I laughed.

“I meant- well, really? It’s true? How long?” 

“I’ll take you to the doctor’s with me next time to prove it, and I believe you’ll be expecting an Aries.” 

He frowned, “I’ve already got a little grey hair going.” 

“Does that somehow disqualify you from paternity?” I chuckled at his foolish reasoning in such a state of disbelief. 

“Well, no. Now that I think about it though… not too bad for an old man, yeah?” He beamed with raised brows, suddenly proud of his virility.

I cracked up this time, my face planting into the palm of my hand but I figured I’d let Jimmy have this one as long as I assured him that he was no old man at just barely past forty. His scattered mind finally regathered itself, his arms wrapping around my frame tightly and kissing me hard enough to make my head spin. Then his hand fell along my torso down to my stomach, spreading his palm over my navel as though he could feel something there this early in the process. When he looked back up to my face, he promised very solemnly to do anything and everything to the utmost of his abilities. I brought his hand up to my lips and he rose back onto his feet, now only adoration shining in his soothing green eyes. 

“So… what exactly does all this mean? I’m very delighted by the news but I assume the doctor’s informed you further on how everything will work.” He questioned once we sat down beside each other, hands clutching to the others in an instinctual form of reassurance.

“Sure, I just have to follow some basic health guidelines and I only have to be more housebound very far into the process. I won’t be entirely helpless but I’ll ask for any help if I need it. Um… I’ll have to see the doctor periodically and get the house ready for a baby, but beyond that I think everything’s normal, so to speak.”

“You’ll never be in want of anything and I’ll make sure I’m here for as much of the time as possible.” He stated factually, then paused with a tinge of hesitance in his body language. “Can we still, ehm… well, you know…?”

I gave him a look, “Make love?”

“Yeah, but y’know, safely and not harm anything?”

“Of course, you bunny. Just be a little gentler, that’s all.”

I could hear him take in a breath, like he was holding something back after hearing that tidbit of information. My inquisitive look drew an elaborative response out of him. There was a dark glint in his eyes and just the smallest hint of a cocky grin just before he spoke.

“You really want to know what I’m thinking, darling?”

“Sure, Jimmy.”

“I’m just envisioning you, radiant, and with a swollen stomach as you carry our child.” He confessed in a gruffer tone that cut through his normally soft voice. “And I want you on top, riding me so I can feel it, see you. And I’m sure it’ll be more comfortable for you.”

“Can’t say I’m opposed to that idea at all.”

“Good, now shall we start drawing up lists of names?” His mood flipped again, now innocent as he eagerly got up to search for a notepad and pen.


	114. pride and joy (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '95 Robert Plant x fem!reader   
> Warnings: nsfw & troublesome family life mentioned

The hotel lobby was surprisingly clear, at least relative of their years touring together decades before, and the whole entourage settled themselves at the hotel bar. Its grand art deco style and pristine cleanliness with only the poshest of guests made it certainly an interesting setting to behold as they waited for their orders to be served up. Only a few older couples and solemn individuals milled about the other tables in the dimly lit room, but the touring group’s conversation made up for their quietness. All the drinks and food orders were served up promptly, slightly hushing the discussion. Jimmy remained in his fervent argument on something music-related while Robert’s eyes wandered through to the other patrons in the room. They landed on someone sitting a few seats away at the bar, entirely alone with a disdained expression as their eyes scanned over the lines of a thick book. His roadie stool-neighbor to the right leaned into his ear, noticing where the singer’s attention had been diverted.

“Looking for trouble?” 

Robert turned away slightly to respond, “No. Who is that?”

“Her parents own the hotel chain and they usually stay here. Jimmy’s run into her before a couple years back and she made for an interesting night, so I heard.” 

“Jackie treatment?”

They chuckled quietly to avoid catching Jimmy’s attention before the roadie continued: “Can’t tell you anything more since I don’t know all the details. But she’s not an easy one if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Robert nodded in consideration, waiting for the conversations to liven up again before slipping across the other few vacant seats and introduce himself to her. She didn’t seem to notice, or at least acknowledge, his closer proximity to her and kept her eyes over the dense text in front of her. He took the opportunity to subtly study her, trying to find any clues about her besides what he was just told. A tailored dark burgundy suit was clad perfectly over her frame, a silver watch encircled her wrist, something glittered around her ankle, and not a single one of her hairs was out of place. Her drink of choice looked to be an old fashioned. The singer figured he’d take the risk of looking like a fool for a night at the potential of getting to know this sophisticated person that gave Jimmy a hard time. 

But before he could begin with a suave turn of phrase, her eyes turned up to him and she spoke with a hint of sharpness: “Is there anything I can help you with?”

He flashed a harmlessly friendly grin and diverted, “I’m just wondering what you’re reading there, love.”

“Court notes of corporate lawsuits over the past three decades.”

“Do you find it interesting?”

“The dull, repetitive, fact-stating arguments that just go back and forth? Not particularly. These get very tiring after studying law, economics, and business for years on end.”

“Complicated subjects, well done on your part.”

She gave him a small smile and turned her attention back to the book.

“What’s your name?”

Without looking up, she continued answering his inquisition: “Y/N.”

“Are you studying for an exam?”

“No. I most recently graduated two years ago.”

“Then why’re you reading something that bores you?”

Finally, she turned her eyes up to his.

“My parents run the largest corporation in the hospitality industry and expect me to take over it with the threat of disowning me should I refuse. I’ve been assigned to deal with a recent lawsuit so I’m scanning through these just in case I find something that might help me. They’re busy partying at a grand opening of a new location in Madrid.”

“I see, everything’s on your shoulders.”

“I’m a conditional trust-fund baby.” She quipped with a wry chuckle. “Though they love showing off their graduate of several prestigious schools with oh-so-many degrees and who speaks however many languages and has her own business connections that had nothing to do with them.”

Hmm, didn’t seem like a load of trouble to the singer at all. Just a troubled girl who had too-high expectations for all her life and clearly wasn’t enjoying the life that was set out in front of her. Maybe she was different back when Jimmy encountered her, still studying and able to fool around a little more. He sighed in pity, noting the slight exhaustion around her eyes and how her lips instinctually turned into a frown while she read over the complicated jargon.

“That must be overwhelming, I’m sorry.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Just curiosity. Maybe I can do something to take your mind off of it or help in some other way.”

Her eyes looked over him incredulously, “Very funny.”

“Well, what would you rather be doing?”

“I like my work, just not when my parents are breathing down my back and using me as a poster child for their success outside of business. And, at the moment, I’d rather do anything but this.”

“I can offer my assistance with both of those things. You’re obviously a very clever and experienced person in your field, not very difficult to set you up with decent work that you might like better.”

“I’m not one to accept handouts or become dependent on people, thanks for the offer.”

“Then let’s get your mind off this.” He pointed to the book.

Robert received an unimpressed look from Y/N.

“C’mon, where do you want to go? What do you want to do?” He prodded.

Instead, she looked over across the bar and narrowed her eyes as though trying to confirm something unbelievable, “It can’t be…”

“Jimmy?” 

“Yeah, didn’t think I’d see him again and, frankly, I don’t really want to. I wasn’t the person I am now when I met him and… well, I don’t need to reminisce on my own past.”

“Would you like to get out of here before he notices you? He is a very observant person and apparently you were quite a notable character, so I doubt he’s forgotten you.”

She shut her book and nodded, swiftly making her way out of the room without turning her head back while the singer followed behind her. They stopped in a more secluded part of the expansive, gold-lined lobby. Y/N kept the book tucked under an arm and she hesitantly met eyes with Robert, hoping he wouldn’t question what happened back then but just let it go. Well, at least she wasn’t nearly falling asleep over the shitty work material she’d been drowning in all day while her parents enjoyed a vacation and wild party in a different country, not that they did too much work nowadays with her available to tend to everything.

“You alright?” He asked.

“Sure. Just frustrated with my own personal issues, not that I need to share more with a complete stranger like you.”

“Have you ever been rebellious at all?”

“Not really. I mean I’ve done things behind their backs but nothing… illegal or outrageous. I could always cover my tracks, so to speak. Part of me wishes I did something ‘disappointing’ when I was younger because then maybe they would’ve lost some hope in me and let me off easier by realizing that they were controlling me too much.”

Her mouth remained ajar as though to say something more, but not finding the right words to speak aloud. Instead, Y/N continued her narrative with her eyes as they met Robert’s with some kind of funny realization reflecting in them. She stepped closer and pursed her lips for a moment in consideration.

“It really isn’t too late, is it?”

“For what?” Robert cocked his head.

“Making myself an absolute disappointment in their eyes out of spite. Pursue my own success in my own way without their interference and make them absolutely screwed unless they pick up their own slack.”

“Sounds very ambitious but, sure it isn’t too late.”

“I’m a very ambitious person.” She declared with a crafty smirk, her hand reaching to the side of his face as she made her lips collide with his. 

His hands reached to the back of her head and along her jaw, wondering what in the world this girl had on her mind but savoring the result of her quick plan-devising. Though he was surprised when she was so eager to move things along, running the tip of her tongue over his lips for permission and letting her hand linger down his chest to the line of his belt. This was like torture and he wasn’t against it, but clearly the girl was troubled with her predicament so this may not have been the wisest course of action. His conscience made him break the (really fucking good) kiss and make sure that she wasn’t just acting on a whim to spite the source of her troubles.

“Slow down, love, I don’t think you mean all this right now and I don’t want you to end up regretting anything that goes on past this point. Maybe you just need a good night’s rest then we can talk more tomorrow, nothing too intense or complicating.” He offered.

“I’m not drunk, if that’s what you mean to ask. My reasoning isn’t inhibited nor am I only doing this as revenge or whatever you might be thinking. I can sort out my own shit tomorrow and I’m open to speaking with you about it. But right now, all I want from you is to know whether you want to go up with me or not.” Y/N answered with a dead-serious gravity to her every word.

Robert didn’t have to think twice to firmly accept her proposition, as that had sort of been his original intention when he saw her. Now that there was a bit more context between them, at least on her end, it only gave him more information to work off of to determine how the proceedings would likely go. She took him by the hand into the elevator and took him up to the top floor where her room was, assuming that the singer didn’t want anyone to bother him in his own room. But he just remained hesitant about all of it, for her own sake. There was still a chance that she could regret all this when in better senses the way she did towards whatever happened with Jimmy and that was exactly what Robert wanted to avoid. He let her lead the way down the hall into her expansive, elegant suite and take charge of their interaction to confirm her own willingness in all this before making any more direct actions.

“Quit dragging your feet, I already told you that this is my own decision out of my own wishes... unless you don’t feel like- ?” Y/N began as soon as she locked the door behind them.

“No, that’s not it at all. You’re right and I believe you.” He held up his hands in surrender.

“Good. Now, I believe you mentioned something about providing a distraction and my curiosity is piqued about your methods.”

No holds were barred. He could play along without the guilt clutching at his thoughts, and damn did he want to want to see how things would go having such a strong, cunning partner to interact with. The sexy little smile curving her lips only seemed to taunt him further. But she grew tired of waiting for his response and gave an impatient sigh, shaking her head.

“Well if you’re still unsure about how to start, then I’ll help you.” 

She was before him again, this time with her head bowed while her hands set to working apart the buttons of his patterned shirt and giving a kiss to his exposed skin at every stop then letting her hands tease him instead when she reached the mid-point of her journey. The muscles of his stomach tightened at her touch and she heard his breath hitch at the exploration of her fingers just underneath his belt, drawing back completely all too soon. His reasoning was being pushed further and further away, giving in to the desire she was rousing and encouraging. 

Once more, he had to confirm: “This is what you want? I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop if you keep playing like this.”

Instead of a verbal answer, she slipped his shirt off his shoulders and pulled him along into the adjoining bedroom. 

“Never surer of anything else in my life. Now are you going to keep asking the same questions over again or will I have to try finding someone, or something, else to satisfy me?”

He slung an arm around her back and abruptly pulled her torso right up against his, “Such a demanding little girl.”

She gave a challenging smile, “Are you ever going to fuck me or not?”

“And such a filthy mouth… you’d better keep quiet if you know what’s best for getting what you want.”

“Make me.” She raised her brows to accompany her taunt, brushing her hips along his impossible-to-miss hardness just to provoke a growl from the base of his throat.

“I’ve tried warning you, honey, but you just don’t listen to what you’re told.” He tutted and pulled back, his hands tinkling open the belt buckle. “Come here.”

Y/N shook her head, “I don’t think so, Mr. Plant. You see, you’re my guest and it’s only fair that you lie down while I take care of you.”

Her hand on his wrist guided him over to the canopied bed with the utmost hospitality, then reached to unbutton and remove the tailored jacket from her shoulders. She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her crisp white-collared shirt halfway before bending her knee up to the duvet, making her way between Robert’s knees. Her hands tugged off the belt then fisted the material over his thighs, utilizing his help, to remove the article of clothing from his hips and down his legs. At the revealing of his cock, her mouth instinctively lolled open and she was practically salivating, her hands gliding up his strong thighs up to where she was going to devour him.

But Y/N remained restrained, encircling the base of his shaft while letting her tongue flick over his tip slowly like licking at an ice cream cone. She looked up at him through her lashes, delighted to see him fall apart right into her hand so easily and that gorgeous expression on his face completed by his mouth dropping into an O-shape. His big strong hands were clutching at anything he could reach, trying to resist the urge to buck right into her mouth and end all the teasing right then. Her tongue started swiftly running up his length as her hand massaged up and down in just the perfect way. Though Y/N got him to really lose himself with a surprise dip in her attention – first, her hands cupping and squeezing his balls while her lips pressed kisses along his inner thigh, then taking them into her mouth and sucking – which earned her a very loud cry and a very guttural moan from her guest. 

As she lifted her head back up and pumped a fist around him, he breathlessly commented: “Fuck, baby, you’re good.”

“I know, and I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Her lips wrapped around him and she began a steady rhythm of taking him deeper, winding back to the ridge of his tip, then pushing herself even lower gradually. Robert was already humming at his lips and muttering encouragements to Y/N, caught off guard when her mouth slipped off him with a pop when he was too close to the edge. She grinned knowingly in her sitting-up position for a moment, leaning right back down and diving as far along his length as she could until her nose was just barely tickled by the thatch of bristled curls at the meeting point of the V leading down his hips. His lungs were burning for more air as his abdomen tightened, feeling himself about to let go into this fucking minx’s mouth with her eyes gazing into his and tempting him to do it. Shit, he could feel her warm tongue massaging the underside of his length and his hips tried to push further into her throat just as the rush pulsed through him. Y/N felt the heat pool in her mouth and begin to drip down her throat. She slipped him out of her mouth, carefully displayed her cum-covered tongue to him, swallowed it all, and then stuck out her clean tongue. He’d only just been granted a release but he was aching for more already. 

Y/N kissed up his torso, chest, neck, and the edge of his jaw. She reached to finish unbuttoning her shirt, throwing it off to the side nonchalantly then having her well-tailored trousers and figure-hugging undergarments follow suit. All she had on now was a sparkling diamond circlet dangling around her calf. Robert used the little bauble to start returning her favor, taking her by the ankle to admire the jewelry then blazing a fiery trail up her leg with his mouth. She was nearly in his lap by the time he reached her upper thigh and softly bit down on the supple flesh, leaving a light indentation of his teeth in her skin. But he stopped there, lifting her by the legs to slip down between them in a lying position and then pulling her back up to his face by the thighs.

“I want to taste you, baby. Now hold onto your headboard.” Robert warned.

Her fingers curled around the thick, carved wood and she widened the stance of her legs in preparation while the singer pulled her up to his mouth, spread hands grasping at her ass. Against his grasp, she arched her hips back and forth for more friction over his open mouth, leaning into the headboard to maintain stability. His fingers dug into her skin, trying to keep her in place while his tongue lapped up her dripping wetness and sucking at her with his mouth enclosed around her folds. A pleased moan buzzed at her smile, still keeping her control even as he restricted her movements. Her head tilted to the side and she reached down a hand to curl her fingers through his hair. It became like a mission for the singer to make it impossible for her to keep holding onto control and completely let go – a viable challenge since even at the edge of release, her breaths only grew less even and slightly heavier. But he was fine with spending the whole night trying to accomplish his goal. She slung her legs back to one side and continued to comb a hand through his wild curls. 

“Just like honey.” Robert remarked with a wicked, lopsided grin.

He was going to try switching places with her, take care of her until she couldn’t hold back anymore. Though her movement back over his hips signaled that she was still taking charge, teasing him with the drag of her glistening wetness over his length. He played along for now, running his hands along her torso and up over her breasts while she just teased his tip at her entrance, very gradually allowing it to slip inside.

“Quit teasing, darlin’.” He pleaded.

She gave a nonchalant shrug, leaned forward, and adhered to his request with a sharp push back. There was a whisper of a wince that came across her face at the sudden change, quickly replaced by the pleasure of feeling so full and from how her clit got perfect friction in the angle of her hips. The singer bit his lip back to try stifling a whine, his hands bracing himself by gripping his fingers into her thighs hard enough to leave little crescent nail marks indented into her skin. It was like being struck by lightning in the most pleasant way or getting lost in the tumultuous waves of a stormy ocean, her body rocking on top of his before he could even catch his breath. She was a goddamn hurricane that he’d unknowingly unleashed and there would be no slowing down until all of her energy was spent, wearing out anything that was in her way. Didn’t seem like a bad way to go out with the night if he could keep up with her.

Finally, Y/N began to slow down. But only to lean forward so they were chest-to-chest and to take in her partner’s reactions even closer, isolating the circling movement of her hips to coax out his curses, cries, knit brows, and parted lips. It was slick and dirty – skin on skin, sweat forming a sheen over their faces or dripping down their bodies, open mouths letting out heavy uneven breaths, only chasing after the white-hot bliss at the peak to be followed by an inevitable crash. The singer’s strong grip and rush of energy just barely managed to push her off, trying to avoid ending their activities far too soon when he’d been left only at her whim for the entire time. 

“My turn, and don’t make me have to hold you down.” He threatened.

She pouted at her loss of control but cooperated, lying back and parting her thighs around his. 

“Very good.” He praised before diverting his attention lower than her face. 

His long fingers coated themselves in the sweet liquid pooling along her core before easing right inside. They curled around, reaching deeper and probing along her wall for the one spot that would make her squirm right into his hand. The arrogant emotionless look on her face vanished instantly when he brushed against it, her eyes wide and jaw dropped as her legs tightened around his. Y/N’s reaction delighted Robert, his goal feeling less impossible with this development, and he grinned. His fingers ran against the spot over and over, working her up into an unsteady rhythm of whines as her muscles constricted at the immense pleasure the simple motion brought her. It didn’t take long for Robert to make her let go around his fingers. He drew them back while Y/N caught her breath, a victorious smirk carved into his lips as he displayed his glistening fingers to her before teasingly flicking the edge of his tongue over them to clean them off. 

“Well as much fun as it is to watch you demonstrate how to provocatively lick at a popsicle, are you going to just sit there or actually fuck me? I’m more than happy to turn the tables again.” She warned.

Slipping his cleaned fingers from his mouth with a pop, he replied: “Good things come to those who wait, and it helps make you a little more desperate for it. What kind of fun would it be if you didn’t draw things out until you were itching to get on with it? Or just go head-on into it without pause and have it over with in, like, fifteen minutes?”   
Y/N gave him an unimpressed look, hooking her legs tighter around his hips until the ankles crossed behind his back, angled herself just right with a hand around his shaft for guidance, and thrusted his cock back into her with a simple roll of her abdomen. Her hands lied back flat at her sides while her taut stomach muscles kept just her shoulders and head on the bed while she fucked herself with him. She shut her eyelids lightly and an easy smiled formed across her lips, reflecting her delight in taking control again. Or at least until the languid expression switched to a stern shock when the singer’s muscular arms grabbed her up to his whim at her lower back, deeply thrusting all the way into her at his own faster pace while she had to fight for breath. Her fingers fisted at the duvet cover while her cold, narrowed eyes stared up at Robert with a look that could kill while she resisted the urge to completely give in to him. 

“Fuck, Y/N! You feel perfect…”

“And I’m not even doing anything.” She said with a sarcastic smile, trying to taunt him into going harder or being rougher with her after growing accustomed to this sensation.

He sheathed himself completely then arched his torso over hers, “You’d rather be up on top of me again?”

She nodded.

“I’ll change your mind, baby.” He promised. 

Robert slid back, letting her whole back recline into the bed and legs relax around him as a false sense of security for a few moments. He ended the pause with the driving of a sharp thrust right back into her, skin slapping hard enough that there would definitely be stinging bruises on the backs of her thighs the next morning. While he worked at a bustling pace, aiming precisely to brush against her G-spot with each stroke, his teeth latched onto one of her breasts and tugged until she became a whimpering mess beneath him. But her breathy whimpers transformed into deeper buzzing moans in her throat – she was enjoying the roughness and how he began marking up her skin as he fucked her harder. 

“Come on, baby, I can tell you’re close.” He encouraged against her neck where he’d just created a bruise.

In a far softer tone than before, she replied into the top of his curly-haired head: “Then make me cum, Robert. Hard.”

Her vulgar demand made him groan against her skin as he did his best to fulfill it through his own oncoming release, feeling it stiffen through his whole body and threaten to snap at any moment. The heavy breaths and high sighs from Y/N’s mouth only sped the process, her bliss signaling to him that she was very much enjoying what he was doing to her. Shit, she was going to flood over him and drench the bedding below her. It would be her third time of the night? And given the dazed state she was in combined with all the sensitive reactions he easily garnered from her, she might’ve underestimated just how hard she would crash by the end the night. Her whole body fell rigid and she remained frozen with a silent scream hanging at her parted lips, waiting for the tidal wave of ecstasy to crash over her then falling limp as she rode out the aftershocks. Robert watched the scene, using his piqued arousal to drive him onwards until he crashed down beside her. She could feel a new heat spilling into her in pulses as her breaths eased into a steady rhythm, her partner slowly slipping out of her and lying down with a large hand resting along the back of her head.

“You’re easily one of the best lays I’ve ever had.” Robert mumbled softly, his blue eyes glimmering cheekily.

“High praise.” Y/N chuckled. “Though I don’t think that’s an achievement I can boast about to other people. I’d fall from the graces of being the family jewel to the family disappointment, I mean, you’re old enough to be my father – not that I give a shit, mind you. Old men do it better, after all.”

“Ha! Absolutely right, my dear.” 

He rewarded her with a suckling kiss at the center of her throat, hesitantly drawing back in case she didn’t want to have another painful bruise to deal with in the morning.

Her hand fell to his jaw and drew it up so he faced her, “Did you really mean the whole thing about helping me get out of this mess? I mean, I don’t necessarily need it but I think I trust you more than the random people I bumped into once or twice who might just screw me over.”

“You trust me already? I mean, you only met me today too.”

“Sure, I can tell you’re a fairly honest person and, frankly, I’d rather be somehow working for you even if it’s as unfair as the deal anyone else would make if the overtime is anything like this.” She said with a quirk of her brow.

“I won’t be unfair; I’ll try to help as much as I can. Least I can do for the girl who gave Pagey a run for his money and an opportunity for me to loom this over his head.”

Y/N laughed with a slow shake of her head at their childish feuding, kissing his smiling lips as a symbol of settling the accord with him. The lights remained on, neither of them all that willing to get up from the warmth of the bed or waste their energy with such a task and perfectly pleased to be wrapped in each other’s arms with such a lovely view of their night’s partner on display before them. Y/N’s fingers remained curled into the ends of his hair as she drifted off to sleep, her torso and neck littered with darkening, dully pained bruises. Robert tucked his head into her shoulder, clutching an arm around the curve of her back so he could feel her smooth skin and body heat up against his own.


	115. breakfast in bed (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "can’t seem to rid this idea of my head!!: you and jimmy are fooling around and teasing eachother in bed, then while laughing he slips “i love you” for the first time... nsfw!! you’re the best xoxo"

“We really should get up; it’s been at least an hour and all we’ve been doing is laying here and fooling around.” I argued, trying to fight the urge to spend the day in bed. 

“Why? Both of us are finally home together with no work to do and who says we have to get up? I, for one, feel perfectly comfortable right here.” He smiled impishly as his surprisingly warm hand ran along the exposed skin along the curve of my back.

“Your luggage is still sitting by the front door, James, and I know for a fact that some of those sweat-soaked clothes haven’t been washed in at least two weeks. Might as well just get on with the process of unpacking and cleaning all of it up.”

“Leave it for the lady who comes to clean at the end of the week or, better yet, take it all to a dry cleaner so it’s completely sanitized.” He quipped.

I scrunched my face disapprovingly at the idea and started to shift out of the blanket’s cover as well as Jimmy’s grip, attempting to force myself out of bed. However, I only succeeded in getting the blanket off because the arm beneath it only pulled me even closer to him. I feigned a scowl as we lied chest-to-chest, fighting against his lanky but strong arms even though my resolve was slipping away by the second. And his stupid, adorable toothy grin was the cherry on top to making me completely surrender into his grasp. 

“See? Far more enjoyable than dealing with suitcases or housework.” Jimmy reasoned, pressing his lips to my forehead as a reward for letting him have his way.

“Then what’s on your agenda for staying here? I don’t suppose you intend to sleep all day…”

He jokingly considered it for a moment: “Well, I didn’t really sleep on tour much so I should catch up at some point. Then again, we could also spend the entire morning and afternoon making love until we pass out.”

I combed a hand through his soft, disheveled hair and noticed how I couldn’t seem to stop smiling around him. His eyes were still a bit puffy from exhaustion but they crinkled into happy crescents as he awaited a response, expecting to easily win me over because he knew how much I’d missed him. And I did. Terribly. Things at work or home went perfectly fine, but I missed Jimmy every single day and my heartbeat leapt every time I heard the phone ring in hopes that it was him. I melted every time he greeted me in his soft, rasped voice after a show or at a hotel room and nearly ended up a puddle on the floor when he dared to make a filthy promise for when he returned into the receiver, his dark tone right up against my ear. Now I reminisced over each little thing he said while on tour, awakening my senses from the remainder of their sleepiness. 

“There’s no way I could refuse that proposition, though I hope you don’t pass out or I’ll be worried.”

“So caring and sweet to me,” He remarked affectionately then slipped his hand down between my legs, “I missed your sweetness.”

“You’re so incorrigible.” I rebutted, shifting my body to gain more friction against his hand. 

Part of me expected him to flip a switch and put me under his spell with his words or fingers, or both. But he was gentle, almost thoughtful, as his fingertips delicately teased, parted, and massaged over my folds. His lips captured mine, drawing my head up and draining air from my lungs while I gasped into his mouth. He worked his way down a straight path until his mouth joined the placement of his fingers, my thighs instinctively parting to grant him more access. Unlike his usual, practically depraved, manner of eating me out, Jimmy planted the softest of kisses all around my center and slowly worked his way in closer to where his fingers languidly worked their magic. Only the tip of his tongue flicked around to lap at me, roaming higher and lower along my slit while my hand fisted at his hair. He drew back after noting my desperate reaction and only left a hand resting over my lower abdomen to add just enough pressure for me to grow more impatient with him. 

“Why are you being so gentle today, baby?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

“Maybe I just want to make sure this lasts as long as possible into the day.” 

“Smart thinking.” 

He brought himself close so our lips met again in a chaste kiss and paused only a centimeter away, a pensive expression on his face as his eyes fell downwards. I felt like I could read what he was thinking – apprehension and happiness swirled into one – likely debating whether to potentially ruin or make the moment by saying something on his mind. But Jimmy was an unpredictable man, as I’d learned, and I didn’t make any further assumptions. I’d wait until he decided to speak – which happened to be sooner than I thought, his eyes flickering back up to mine with a childlike innocence in them. He pressed an impassioned kiss onto my lips and broke away breathlessly, muttering his confession against my mouth.

“I love you, Y/N.”

I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly, or maybe just didn’t believe that I’d hear those words from him, and asked him to speak up.

“I said, ‘I love you’.” He chuckled, likely trying to lighten the mood in case my reaction wasn’t a favorable one.

Before I could get my hopes up and fawn over his endearing statement, I had to gauge his gravity: “Do you mean that?”

“More than I’ve ever meant it in my whole life.”

“Good, because I love you too.” 

“It came to me when I left. I was fine for a few days but then it started to almost bother me that you weren’t with me. I’d turn around to say something to you or reach for your hand and realize that you weren’t there. That’s why I started calling you nearly every day. And now that I’m here, it’s like looking at you in a different light with all these little details I never noticed before. Where exactly your smile lines are on your face, the way you always gasp when I’m touching you, how your scent lingers on everything in the house except my clothes, the sternness in your eyes when you’re focused or warning someone not to cross you, how your eyelashes perfectly curve along your eyes and over your cheeks when you’re asleep, the movements you make with your hands, all of it.”

A thick cloud formed in my chest and I couldn’t find any words to adequately reply to him. No one had ever really said anything like that to me before, never taken the effort or bravery to be so honest and unafraid to profess things to me like we were living out a romantic scene in a book. It just wouldn’t seem genuine or possible before I got to know Jimmy. My hand reached for the side of his face and I observed him silently, wondering how in the world I got lucky enough to experience everything I did with him. 

“At times like this, I can’t believe that this is all real – I mean, it feels like a dream.” I finally managed to say and dryly chuckled, “You should change the subject or something before I get sappy and overthink it.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.” He smiled with a kiss to my forehead. “Though I think I’ll have to ask one thing of you right now.”

“And what would that be?”

“Breakfast in bed.”

I gave him a perplexed look, “Now? I thought we weren’t getting up.”

“Let me clarify – spread your legs for me, darling.”


	116. new year's vignettes (led zeppelin x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 2021 everybody!  
> Pairing: Led Zeppelin x reader  
> Warnings: a little nsfw at the end

request: "New Year’s Eve headcanons for everyone? Happy New Year by the way!!✨"

Jimmy Page 

The party rampaged on downstairs far longer than it usually did, the show tonight being a massive, bombastic success and celebration in order to ring in the new year as well. Although this time, Jimmy swept us out of the crowds of people far earlier – going up right after the tolling of the new year and a chaste kiss that tasted like champagne that promised much more once we were away from prying eyes. I chased after him, holding onto his hand while he zig-zagged through the sea of people. He turned back occasionally like Orpheus afraid that I might get lost behind him and disappear like Euridice. But we managed to get back up to the band’s nearly vacant floor and slip into his room, still hearing the muffled festivities below.

His hand found the side of my face and we stood in place for a few moments, to my slight confusion. He studied me with a light smile, tilting my chin to face him and draw me closer. I slowly began to crack when the tip of his nose brushed mine. As much as I tried to stifle it, a smile started to stretch at the edges of my lips and I laughed with my head bowed down over his shoulder. He threw his free arm around the small of my back and pulled me closer to get my attention again. 

Both of us were smiling now.

“What are you doing, Jim?” 

“I was admiring the best aspect of the previous year, and this year as of its fifteen-minute duration.” 

My reply was a disbelieving chortle, having heard some of the other shit he usually said being in completely contrast to the finely tuned eloquence that he just spoke with. Jimmy sighed at my reaction to his attempt at sweetness and continued blabbering to try remedying the affectionate mood that he attempted to set. At least, until I quieted him down with my lips against his and combed my fingers through his hair, earning a pleased hum from the back of his throat. A very happy start to a new year indeed.

\----------

John Bonham

The kitchen was hot, still warm from the oven that had been baking all sorts of things since eleven o’clock in the morning and from the still-working stove with a few pans of dishes staying warm while guests started to arrive. John and I would switch off running to the door, rendering a gleeful greeting, and welcome people inside then scurry back into the kitchen. Everything was plated up, given an appetizing arrangement, then set out on the table until there was no more room left on its surface. With a conclusive sigh and glance to one another in confirmation that all the work was done, we went to go join everyone else. 

It was nice to see everyone out of their work element and just laid-back. Robert making silly quips and exchanging advice on farm animal care, his arm slung over Maureen’s shoulders or holding her hand while their little boy squirmed around on her lap. Carmen sat shyly in her own chair, eyeing the pies and stacks of cookies. The other John sat with the other Maureen at the opposite side of the table, a gaggle of redheaded girls beside them and babbling amongst each other. Other family friends occupied all the seats between, catching up with one another after months or discussing recent events over their filled plates and glasses of champagne, or stronger drinks. The hours leading up to the much-awaited strike of midnight flew by unnoticeably as the party danced, sang, ate, drank, and played around in the living room. 

Just fifteen minutes before the new year, Bonzo announced a surprise for everyone including myself: “Alright, let’s all head outside for the real party to start. I’ll stop by the barn and then just keep your eyes focused on the sky.”

My eyes nearly fell out of their sockets and I marched over to whisper in his ear, “John! You have fireworks? From where? And how did you hide them from me?”  
He gave a less-than-reassuring wave and went off anyways, setting out the little explosive devices in the middle of a wide-open part of the lawn. I saw the glow of a lighter, John’s silhouette running towards me in the dark, and a flash up to the sky. Everyone held their breath then cheered with the boom of the first firework, exploding into a shimmering flower of red and white above our heads. The show continued on and perfectly concluded with a continuous colorful rain of sparks at exactly midnight. 

\----------

John Paul Jones

While the life of the party raged downstairs, there was a smaller private party up on the band’s floor. The one spare room opened up to the invitees who were seeking quieter merriment to celebrate with drinks, cigarettes, and conversation. I sat beside John with my head resting on his shoulder while someone in the group was strumming (not Jimmy’s) acoustic guitar and someone else softly sang along. The peacefulness of the setting was momentarily interrupted by the band’s guitarist slipping inside quickly, shutting the door, and sitting down with everyone else. He looked utterly disheveled and breathless, but relaxed to be with more familiar faces than in the circus downstairs. 

The song and conversations continued a beat later. Only five minutes remained until the new year officially began. John stood up and took my hand, pulling me out to the fresh air out on the balcony where the populated city outside was all lit up. Upbeat songs were playing from everywhere and the hum of people’s voices filled the air. We stood together with our arms looped around the other’s low back and flutes of champagne in our free hands. The countdown began with the sound of all people chanting together, even across the cityscape view, and I smiled at the funny phenomenon. Three, two, one, and there was a collective cheer for a happy new year. John and I turned to each other, clinked our glasses together, took a sip for good fortune, then leaned in for a kiss. 

“Off to a wonderful start already.” He remarked with a grin.

“The last one started like this too.” I pointed out. “Not that I’m complaining at all.”

\----------

Robert Plant

The quick nap we planned to take before celebrating at home together turned into a seven-hour sleep. Robert leaned over to check the clock, seeing that we had exactly twelve minutes until it struck midnight. I tried to sit up quickly out of bed only to be halted by the firm grip around my midsection. He tutted in disapproval and pulled me even closer than we were before, apparently in no rush to get up for the holiday. My protests were all hushed immediately until I finally gave up and waited for him to smooth-talk through making me agree that we should stay in bed.

“What’s the rush? We don’t have company, nor a massive dinner or anything like that waiting for us. I say, we stay right here and start the year in the best possible way. It might give us more luck than just some silly little kiss.” 

“I will never understand how your logic works, but fine. I just don’t feel like arguing and it’s an appealing idea anyways.”

He grinned with dimples in full display even in the dim lamplight, a flash of his expression before his arm reached across my torso and he climbed up over me. His lips attached to my neck and my hands raked into his hair – it was an instinct by now and always earned a devilish groan against my skin. All my senses immediately livened when he came up to meet my lips with his own and I could feel him up against my thigh, my legs crossing behind his back to keep him this close up against my body. But he broke free, promising something much better if I let him go and diving down between my parted thighs. His perfect, teasing touch was maddening; my hands clutched tightly at the sheets, my back arching off the bed, my mouth helplessly crying out, all my muscles contracting as he relentlessly brought me up to the very edge of crashing. My mind went blank and all I felt was a wash of pleasure over me, the room seeming to fade away until I heard the clock strike twelve.


	117. backstage betty (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: 90s Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw & roleplay

request: "Hi can i give a request to add to your list 💛💛 Based on Backstage Bettys story about her rendezvous with Jimmy when he & her did school girl/headmaster roll play. Jimmy had her call him Mr. McGregor 😂😂 btw James Mcgregor was his old alias for checking into hotels and it was said they were gonna name The firm - the Mcgregors too. anyway I’d love to see this story told through your lens 💛💛💛 & if you haven’t googled it pls do.."

I’d memorized every trick I could, every rumored tidbit about his preferences, every piece of information out there just to finally have it pay off the one fateful night after the show. It was lucky that my friend worked at the hotel the whole entourage was staying at and was able to whisper intel to me – when they were due at the hotel, which floor they were staying on, etc. The front desk was on the lookout, phone at the ready to dial the hotel bar I was sitting at in case I had to place myself elsewhere in the building. Nothing came through five minutes after the “due time” and I assumed that they’d be here any second now. I nursed the half-emptied glass in my hand, making small talk with the friendlier guests sitting at the bar too and using that as a perfect distraction to keep from staring when I heard a few very familiar voices enter the area. A heatwave rippled down my torso when I recognized the soft tone of Jimmy’s voice and realized that he was not even ten feet away from me as he passed by. 

A half-hour passed with the touring group chatting and having drinks at one of the tables behind me while I resisted the urge to turn around with every ounce of restraint I had. As I overheard their group discussing going up to their rooms or exploring the city, I swiftly and discreetly slipped off my seat to walk past them all slowly then poise myself right outside the bar. Gazing down at my watch, I pretended to be interested in what time it was and subtly primp at my appearance during the short time it took them to catch up with me then carefully brush past. The man of my interest leaned over to one of the unfamiliar crew members and whispered something to him, making him stop in his tracks while the rest of them went up to their rooms. I let my eyes linger upwards to watch as the crew member pivoted around and came right up to me.

“Sorry to bother you, miss, but my friend took an interest to you and he’s wondering if you’d like to join us for drinks in ten minutes or so?” 

I raised my brows in faux-surprise, “Really? Which one was your friend?”

“The one with dark, shoulder-length hair. He’s a guitarist, you might recognize him.” 

“Hmm, well he wasn’t wearing a hat so I assume it isn’t Slash.” I quipped coyly.

The man laughed, “No… my friend’s name is Jimmy Page.”

“Oh, well I definitely recognize that name. And sure, I’ll take up the offer.” I nodded.

“Wonderful, only you’ll have to tell me when ten minutes pass since I don’t have a watch ‘round my wrist.” 

We continued to talk casually, occasionally checking the face of my watch until the full ten minutes passed. The man directed me over to the elevators, apologizing for the guitarist’s strange and very particular ways as we went up. I shrugged it off and tried to keep my cool as the elevator doors slid open with a ding, signaling that I was close to actually meeting the Jimmy Page. My veins were frazzled as I realized that it was fairly likely that my stupid little fantasies would potentially be brought to reality. I even had dreams about something like this, never imagining that it could happen until my friend and I devised this plan. Even then, I thought I’d screw up or something wouldn’t work out along the way. But holy shit, here I was walking along the pristinely clean floor and being escorted over to the suite at the end of the hallway. As the door opened to a scene of candles and grandeur with no one else apparently in the room, I realized that “drinks” was an invitation to a far more private affair than I assumed.

I hesitantly stepped inside and called out softly, “Hello?”

“Right here, love.” The guitarist turned to face me from the stylish sofa with a polite smile and a mostly empty glass in his hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Page.” I said as I sat down where he motioned for me to join him.

“What’s your name?”

I took note of how he didn’t correct me and only stifled a little smirk at how I referred to him.

“Y/N.”

“Lovely. Now tell me, Y/N, would you like anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. Thank you.”

His hand just barely grazed over my knee while his eyes studied me. I cleared my throat quietly, turning my eyes down to the floor and trying to avoid the intense look sweeping over me. What could he possibly be thinking about? Was this an additional evaluation of some sort? How direct was he going to be, and would he kick me out now if he decided against his initial invitation? I nibbled at my lower lip and meekly glanced back over to him, still deep in thought while his swoon-worthy green eyes were fixed on me.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head reassuringly. “Just wondering about something… how experimental, or maybe willing to experiment, would you say you are?” 

I felt his touch right over my knee now and I thought that I saw him lean in closer. My breathing felt louder or heavier to me and heat seemed to curl through my whole body in a flush. But I had to collect myself quickly to actually reply to his question.

“In what sense?”

“In general.”

“Well, ‘try everything at least once’ as they say. Fairly open to trying new things, although I’m not sure I’d want to try certain hazardous things like swim with sharks or something.” 

He nodded in consideration and a hint of amusement at my innocent reply, “What about playing a character?”

My brows furrowed, “I don’t think I understand, Mr. Page.”

“Like… pretending to be in a particular role and acting in character.”

“I’d have to try it to give you an honest answer.” 

He shifted with a new idea, “How about this – I tell you exactly what I’d like to do with you and you tell me if it’s alright? And you can tell me to stop any time at all.”

I nodded, keeping my posture stiff against the butterflies in my stomach and how weak in the knees I felt. Something told me that this would be even better than I expected or ever imagined, and that sent jolts of anticipation pumping through my veins. The adrenaline was almost making my head spin and all I could do was wait for him to inform me of his wicked plans, hanging onto his every word. He seemed to observe my interest with delight, trailing his hand up to my mid-thigh now.

“You will refer to me only as Mr. McGregor, your headmaster who’s just caught you in a terrible misdeed and has to discipline you for it. Follow my instructions carefully if you want to get off easy, otherwise I’ll have to add to your punishment for impropriety. Understood?”

I nodded again, a little hesitant at the strange name he’d chosen for himself but enticed by the scenario he devised.

“Is that alright with you, Y/N?”

“Absolutely.” 

He grinned for a moment and took my hands in his victoriously, then guided me up off the sofa to follow him through a different doorway. It led directly into the bedroom which was lit by a fairly bright overhead light unlike the dimly candle-lit entrance room. Jimmy didn’t seem to waste time at all, barely giving me a moment to observe the luxurious design with a sharp pull that made me accidentally knock right into his torso. He gave me an intimidating look, but I knew he did it on purpose to disorient me further. It worked wonderfully as he manipulated my body up into the center of the stacked pillows over the hotel bed and I mindlessly followed with the urging of his hands. I looked to him for further directions, realizing he probably expected me to slip into character now.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, I really didn’t mean any harm.” I batted my eyes with a slightly pouted lower lip.

My plain Mary Jane heels were slipped off my feet and I cursed myself for basically handing this idea into his hands based on my schoolgirl-ish outfit choice. He didn’t look up at me nor respond, making me actually feel like a misbehaving brat having their pleas ignored and being given the silent treatment as what they had coming finally caught up to them. I squirmed as he removed the sheer black tights from my legs and tossed them off to the side. Only then did he pause, sit down at my feet, and address me with a cold expression.

“You’re not getting out of this, little girl. No matter how hard you try, your tricks aren’t going to work on me and you know that your actions are deserving of this.” 

I looked right back at his intense gaze, amazed at the instant and immense effect this game had on me as I felt myself tense through a ripple of arousal in my stomach. 

Jimmy continued: “And I’ve got the perfect way to make you atone for being so naughty. Something more typical to start with, then something that will finally make you understand that you must behave under my rules. Maybe then you’ll be more obedient to behavior policies.”

Did that mean he wanted me to try rebelling against him? For the sake of upholding character integrity? I wasn’t going to break the dynamic we had going by asking him such a question and figured I’d have to find out myself. At the worst, he’d probably scold me some more and maybe restrain me or something.

“With all due respect, Mr. McGregor, I don’t see what the problem is. I didn’t mean to disobey your rules and I didn’t hurt anyone – I just couldn’t help it.”

“You’ll have to learn how to help it. And for defying me further with your attempt at an appeal, I think you need more discipline than I thought.” He tutted in disappointment. “Now stay exactly how my hands position you, is that understood?”

His brisk tone made me urgently nod my head in response. He started with my feet, taking my ankles and parting them as wide as they would go. Next, came my back – his hands coaxing me to slide down slightly from my upright seat. Then he took me by the wrists and locked them up over my head together. Jimmy warned that if I moved at all, I would be restrained to stay this way and given an additional measure of punishment. I watched him turn over to one of the suitcases on the floor, rifle through it, and find a long piece of thick black fabric of some kind. As he unfolded it and brought it up closer to me, I realized it was like a small shawl or a hood that he placed over my head so I could only barely see what was going on around me. When his hand snuck below the hem of my short skirt and rubbed harsh circles over my panties, all I could see was my stomach muscles suddenly becoming taut at the sudden stimulation. 

“Hmm, I think someone’s been enjoying their punishment.” He remarked at the soaked fabric beneath his fingertips. 

I felt his hands lock around my ankles again and pull them close while his other hand tugged off my panties. The cool air made me quiver against the grip of his hands while he roughly repositioned me back into a spread-out configuration. Then, I saw his hand creep up to the top of my button-up blouse and start to undo each of the buttons, but didn’t remove it from me when he reached the last one. My torso was trembling more than I expected, seeing it only made me feel completely out of control over myself and especially so with the mystery the limited vision in the hood provided me. I watched his hands return, reaching towards my bra to tug it just under my breasts and expose them to the cool air as well. His fingers pinched at their stiffening peaks and I bit my lip to keep from crying out, nearly drawing blood while he repeated the action harder each time. It only got worse when his mouth latched around each one in turn, allowing his teeth to do as his fingers had just done but painfully enough that I couldn’t stop myself from sharply whining in protest.

“This is for enjoying your punishment. Not so fun now, is it?” He taunted and pulled away, leaving me actually wanting more of any contact from him even if it was slightly painful.

“No, Mr. McGregor. I’m sorry.”

“Much better. You’ll get a lighter treatment next for that improvement.” 

My mind wondered what he possibly meant by that statement at the loss of contact for a little while after that, only to be very quickly informed of what his intentions were by the warm touch at exactly the region where I was most aching for attention. It felt like my voice was coming from without me, swinging and echoing lines that intersected in frail, high pitches around my head. To say he was talented with his hands was an understatement, even applied outside of his musical work, and he was gifted with his mouth too. He made my head spin like a glittering top, seeing stars and feeling almost faint as I started to teeter off balance. 

“You’re right on the edge, little girl, aren’t you?” He questioned in a tone soaked by a raspy lust.

I had to steady my breaths to answer: “Yes, Mr. McGregor.”

“Then let go, right now, on my hand.” He commanded sharply, giving an encouraging smack to my dripping folds.

“Shit!” I yelped, my entire body jolting and surprisingly releasing the tension in my abdomen just like he requested.

He lapped up all the liquid immediately and my legs drew back from oversensitivity, only to get his hands to attach themselves to my thighs so he could hold them right into place. The hood was slightly moved higher over my head so I could see a little bit more now too. Finally, he drew back and caught his breath with an arrogant smile over his wet lips. Another ripple of heat made its way through me instantly and I got the feeling that this may very well stretch out into an all-night affair. 

“I’m discovering that you’re a very sweet girl, at least down here. Let’s see if we can get your attitude to adjust that way as well – I’ve got just the thing.”

Immediately, I thought of the apparent discipline paraphernalia he was rumored to carry around. My assumption was correct when I saw the smooth, matte triangular piece of leather at the end of a riding crop slithering against my thigh. I tried not to shift around against it as Jimmy moved it along to the top curve of my body where my inner thigh ended, but not quite to the throbbing center only a mere centimeter away. He was testing me, trying to see if I would fold and squirm rather than follow his rules. Sweat dripped along my temples but I managed to resist, earning a quick phrase of praise from him then seeing him set it down nearby. His hands slid beneath my lower back and his hips inched closer to mine, bringing my specifically-positioned frame up to his, exactly how he wanted. He leaned over to press his lips to my forehead as he slipped inside, just barely pushing past his tip – either as a tease or to make sure he didn’t hurt me. I didn’t have the strength to resist letting my moan reverberate between us at the fucking amazing sensation running adrenaline all through my flushed body. 

It was like nothing I felt before as he went further and faster and deeper and harder. My skin felt too hot. My veins were burning up with liquid fire instead of blood. My sweat didn’t cool me off. My muscles were over-stiffened at this point and I thought I might break at any moment. All of the groans and filthy remarks brushed onto her skin by his swollen lips seemed to echo in my otherwise cleared mind. Everything seemed to go blind and I fell completely limp with new feelings of heat – one gushing out of me while the other filled me in prolonged pulsations. The room, the sound of our breathing, and the lack of energy in my body all became known again through the blankness after a while.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jimmy’s normal voice was back, although tinted with a shade of delicacy.

“Yeah, I think so.” I croaked out, barely opening up my eyes to see him and noticing that the hood was removed from my head.

“You blacked out, love, and made quite the mess.” 

“I’m so sorry.” I sat up, only to fall right back against the pillows.

“Don’t worry – just means you really enjoyed it and I can get room service to bring up new sheets.” 

“Jimmy, I- I don’t know what it was but I’ve never experienced anything like that anymore. It was more intense than anything I ever felt, I passed out and I don’t think I could stand up on my feet right now.”

He beamed with a virile pride then helped me up into a sitting position and clasped his hands around mine, “Go take a bath and relax for a little bit while I have the bed freshened.”

I made my way over to where his hand was gesturing and turned my head to him at the doorway, "For the record: I'm very glad that I 'experimented' that with you."


	118. airport (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: like '82-ish Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: none? 
> 
> honestly idk where this idea came to me but hey i wrote it out so might as well post it

One performance the previous day followed by a long evening and night of reminiscing of just two years prior, now he was leaving at 6:30 today with barely any sleep. Given the way the performance went, Jimmy was only more convinced to leave before anything more could happen and happier to hole himself back up when he got home. The airport was almost dead silent aside from occasional announcements over the speakers. Only a few other travelers were seated in their respective terminals, mostly people dressed very professionally and half-asleep in their seats so they didn’t really pay him any mind. The private plane arranged for him was set all the way off the end where people usually didn’t gather and so the plane could set off quicker. It had yet to arrive, since he made sure to come early, so he plopped down at one of the seats carelessly and rubbed at his sleepy eyes.

He looked out through the massive windows, noting the stark difference of yesterday afternoon’s clear skies to this morning’s grey haze. The fog made it almost impossible to see what was out in the distance past the paved grounds of the airport – there were only the tiniest hints of darker grey to outline the smoothly curving horizon line and jutting trees all huddled together as though to keep warm with their still-bare branches. It was murky, not particularly pleasant weather but somewhat comforting to the watchful and conflicted Jimmy. He felt like he was just itching to leave, to get back to what he’d been doing in his two-year break of all band-related things after they ended it. Better not to be brought into the mindset of the years before – hectic touring, constantly writing, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on them, trying to distract from the pressure with whatever means made themselves available even if they were questionable in the end. It was more peaceful at his own pace and being on his own. 

The plane still wasn’t around so he got up for a stroll, trying to burn off a little of the unnerved feeling by walking around the end of the terminal. As he pivoted back around to his gate, still no sign of the plane, a deer-in-the-headlights look stopped his feet. Not because he was particularly struck by being recognized, but because he also recognized the girl staring at him with a familiar smile slowly easing over her lips. She stepped towards him slowly, gradually building speed, and soundlessly over the polished floor. God, she looked the same way she did years before besides the slightly different styling of her clothes. Jimmy gave her a shy smile and didn’t try stopping her, instead welcoming the familiar face even to his own surprise. Her arms reached out for a moment as though she was going to embrace him only to draw them back to her sides, unsure how he was feeling that morning.

“Hi Jimmy.” 

“Hi Y/N.” The name slipped from his lips out of nowhere, like muscle memory. 

“How much time do you have before you’re leaving?”

He peeked over to a clock, “About 10 minutes.”

“Oh. Well, have a safe flight and I hope you’re well.”

“Thank you, are you going somewhere as well?”

“No, actually seeing my friend off. She just left so I decided to wander around the airport a bit before I left, funny coincidence that I bumped into you.”

“Yeah…” He trailed off, recalling their encounters with each other from years before.

Y/N must’ve traveled with them for over two months across America, a notably strange occurrence for him to have a guest along for so long but she had been conveniently available and charismatic to a fault. She could carry a conversation on any topic, listen attentively to everyone who spoke, behave kindly even to people who may not have deserved it yet speak her mind sharply if they crossed a line, find delight in his typical post-show hotel-room activity preferences, and help out with nearly anything that happened while on tour. It was a perfect arrangement until it had to be broken off and he figured she would be within reach but slowly iced out over time, not that he relished in such a dismal outcome. Then fate decided to play a trick on him with this surprise. 

“So, are you just heading home now?” She asked, breaking his thoughtful silence.

“Yeah. Plenty to do there even without a band or tour.”

“Must be exhausting.”

“I manage.” He winked amiably. “How’s your work, what do you do now?”

She sighed, “Nothing at the moment. I just got out of college and have a three month-long break until my first official job is supposed to take me on.”

“Best of luck, though I’m sure they couldn’t possibly fire someone like you. If they give you any trouble, you know where to reach me.”

Her laugh was melodious, she didn’t take his offer seriously and amusedly thanked him.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His tone becoming more solemn. “I, uh, actually might have a proposition for you then. If you aren’t occupied.”

“I come work for you before I get to my real job?”

“No, no. Spend your break with me. You won’t have to worry about anything at all and you don’t even have to stay for more than a week if you don’t want to. All up to you.”  
Her brows knit together like she just watched him turn into a goat before her eyes. Then her expression morphed into surprise when he still didn’t break the solemnity of his gaze and statement. He could tell that she was considering it and that pleased him – she still cared enough for him to possibly accept or find a way to gently let him down. There wasn’t much time for her to make a decision but then again, it’s not like she’d have to bring anything along when he was willing to make it as comfortable of a stay as possible and with all the available resources in his hands. Finally, she looked back up at him and began to open her mouth, hesitance still riddled in her face.

“I’d be very happy to come but- ”

“But?” He cut her off, completely impatient at this point.

“But, I’d feel guilty for being a stone around your neck the whole time. I mean, I seriously don’t even have an overnight bag on me let alone a three-month bag. Besides, I’ll have to inform the secretary that my contact number changed and she is not the most pleasant person to deal with. I’ll be as dependent as a little kid and, quite frankly, it’s not a character I play well.” 

“Seriously?” He gave her an incredulous look.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N, I’m inviting you. That means I take care of you since you’re my guest. I can figure out how to reach the secretary if it bothers you so much.”

“Fine.” She muttered. 

“You’re sure?”

Y/N’s eyes met his and she nodded, slowly smiling again. “Yeah, yeah… I’m coming with you. Shit, this is sudden but that’s how we were before.”

“Indeed, it was, and look at that! The plane’s just arrived.” He gestured out the window, a pale gold sun breaking through the silver of the morning fog.


	119. doctor doctor (john bonham & robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Bonham & Robert Plant x fem!reader who's a doctor  
> Warnings: nsfw & a teensy bit sexist at the beginning
> 
> yes all the past like 20 fics have song titles for names, this one is a Who song

request: "Hi my favourite author! If you found an inspiration for Bonzo-Robert-female OC threesome story...fly attendant maybe? Or doctor, because I am one :D I know, I know ;) Bon voyage!"

I knew it the moment I felt the stares of at least three sets of eyes on me. The remark that followed my entrance into the plane only confirmed my exact assumptions of what would happen when I boarded, even if their intimidating manager was guiding me inside the plane with a more professional approach than he used with most of the other women who surrounded the band. Names were muttered into my ear briefly as he pointed people out on the plane and I gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. 

“Is that a third flight attendant we’re getting?” Jimmy questioned, a devilish grin on his face.

“No, this is- ” The manager began.

“You’re pretty dedicated for a girl who got left behind at the hotel after last night.” The guitarist continued, jumping to conclusions yet again.

I cut in purely out of vexation: “Actually I’m your new doctor in case anyone finds themselves suffering from an ailment of any kind whilst on tour. I’ll be around all the time, don’t hesitate to report anything to me. Better to get treated when you’ve got light symptoms than battle something tougher later.” 

“Welcome then, anything for you to drink?” The bassist asked from behind a makeshift bar with a genuine smile.

“No, thank you.” I responded nicely as I sat down, neatly gathering the penciled skirt of my dress under my thighs. 

“What’s your name, love?” The blond singer grinned, perhaps intentionally to show off his dimples.

“Y/N.”

“Ooh, Doctor Y/N has a nice ring to it. I’m afraid Jimmy and I tend to get the sickest on tour. Bonzo sometimes hurts his hands or muscles from playing too hard.”

“Thank you, but I don’t tend to work solely off of generalizations. It sometimes blocks the ability to see what’s really going on if you just assume the cause of someone’s symptoms or guess that things will just follow their usual course. Science is measurable and manipulatable, but it allows for plenty of error because it’s ruled by nature, which is a fairly chaotic force.”

Everyone fell into silence for a moment but I didn’t feel weird about making such a statement. It was true. It was exactly my approach to the work I did so better to have it out in the open before a more dire situation where this sort of tension would interfere. A few other questions were asked towards me then they all got distracted by something else, breaking off into their own discussions as the plane began to take off. Based on this experience and some of the things I heard, true or untrue, I could tell it was going to be a fairly interesting time for me as an outsider to this lifestyle even just observing it from the sidelines.

Over the first stops on tour, things seemed to run through the same course – I was invoked in conversations on occasion, they would usually try to break through my decently-natured professional approach, then turn away after realizing that it wouldn’t work. Jonesy usually didn’t even mean it and was quite friendly when he was in a more talkative mood. Jimmy gave up after a few tries, or maybe was just distracted by easier targets of his charm. The other two kept at it, inviting me to come along the concerts and afterparties or offering their laps as seats in crowded cars. I just read it as being either childish or banter with someone they’d see for more than just two days at a time. And there were yet to be any medical incidents that required my attention. 

Until their sixth stop in Chicago. They were lucky to have a two-day break between shows and that they didn’t put off bursting into my hotel room the minute they came back from the performance – the singer with a whisper of a speaking voice and the drummer limping on one foot with a grouchy scowl on his face. I ushered them inside, shut the door to hopefully muffle any outside noise, mentally thanked them for changing into non-sweat-soaked clothes after the show, and began ordering them around. John was seated far back over the bed and Robert remained seated in a chair while I waited for the room’s kitchenette tea kettle to finish boiling. My hands gently folded the fabric of the drummer’s pants up to his knees, feeling around his calves and occasionally asking where it specifically hurt, when the pain started, etc. I figured that he must’ve strained a calf muscle with all the intense fancy footwork he pulled on stage. 

“You both stay where you are, I need to grab a few things from my luggage and from room service. I’ll be right back.”

They both nodded in understanding and I slipped out of the main room to find my suitcase. My hands rummaged through the part of it where I kept a bag of medical supplies, finding some clean bandages and analgesic cream to start on the drummer with then using the phone to make a few room service orders to remedy the singer’s sore throat. I found them still in place how I left them and got started with John’s right leg. My hands gently kneaded into the skin for a few minutes and I saw his head turn to observe what I was doing at the cool sensation of the cream smoothly being spread over his calf. 

“Is this alright?” I asked.

“Yeah, just a little cold.” 

“Sorry. I’ll wrap it up in a second and have you tell me if it’s too tight.” I informed, reaching for the bandage.

I wound it up for easier storage earlier so it took a moment for me to completely unwind it, the moment that room service knocked on the door. Robert stood up to go answer but my sharp look stopped him in his tracks. Placing down the bandage, I went up to retrieve all the items I requested and placed them down on the nearest table before returning to the drummer. The singer gave a strange look at the various items I brought in for him and silently glanced back towards me while I got started with the bandage, wrapping it just tight enough around John’s leg that it wouldn’t slip off as well as provide a good amount of compression to the strained muscles. I tucked the edge into the wrappings and urged him back into a sitting position at the foot of the bed to check if it was good.

“If anything happens with it – it slides off or whatever else – or if anything new pops up, you come right back in here.” I directed and handed him a small bag of penicillin pills for the pain, receiving a nod from him though he didn’t make a move to exit.

“Thank you, doctor.” He said with a toothy grin. 

“Of course.” I returned his smile, then my attention turned to Robert. “Now it’s your turn.” 

He gave me a feigned look of fright as I stepped over to the kitchenette, steeping some tea then adding in the other items to brew into it. Shreds of fresh ginger root, squeeze of lemon juice, spoonful of honey. That would be the first step once it cooled down enough for him to drink it. A cool topical ointment would go on his throat next, hopefully clearing away some of the irritation. The last resort from my homemade methods would be some strong vodka mixed with some crushed raspberries, an odd remedy but it worked fairly well sometimes. Only after that point would I have to give him something from a pharmacy if it still didn’t go away.

I went up to him with the steaming cup of tea and handed it to him, “You drink all of this down while it’s still fairly hot. If it cools down, it won’t be as effective.” 

The small jar of the ointment was clutched in my hand and I suddenly felt shier knowing that I’d have to ask him to remove his shirt so I could apply it all the way from his neck down over his chest. It was such a stupid reaction, being a very necessary action for me to take so he would feel better quickly and that I had to remain professional as per my duties with the band. But I couldn’t seem to reason the thought away and cleared my throat before making my request to him, holding out the jar to demonstrate that I certainly wasn’t up to anything funny with what I asked of him. 

“Robert, you’re going to have to take your shirt off. Or at the very least unbutton it halfway so I can put this on you.” I instructed, hoping that my voice didn’t falter.

His crooked grin widened and he obliged immediately, slipping the loose fabric over his head then shaking out his hair. 

“Now he’s happy to come see the doctor.” The drummer chuffed from the sidelines.

I bit back a smile and continued on: “Now this is going to burn a little and I’m going to apply it up on your throat but also over your chest in case it’s something a bit more serious, just as a precaution. Is that alright?”

He nodded, positioning himself around to grant more convenient access to me. I slathered my fingers with the ointment before carefully dabbling a thin layer across his throat and slowly working my way down, trying to be as thorough as possible. My hand brushed back his hair, making me wish to comb through it because of how surprisingly soft it felt and then immediately cursing myself for letting my brain stray from the focus of my responsibility here. But I knew I was in trouble when my fingers smoothed over his chest and I could feel his heart beating underneath. I cleared my throat again and got up to wipe my hand clean, screw the top of the jar back on, watch over the both of them for any further concerns. Robert merely glanced up at me between sips of the tea concoction I gave him.

“Once he’s done, both of you are free to leave but make sure you get rest tonight. I think it’ll be fine as long as you don’t strain yourselves any further.” I said while packing up some of my materials back into my suitcase.

“You’re just going to send us back? No patient over-watch through the night?” Robert protested from his seat and his voice just barely tinged with a hint of gruffness.

My brows knit, as it was impossible for him to have made such a drastic change with just one measly cup of tea and the rub. “Wait… how are you suddenly feeling so much better?”

“You’re a very good doctor.” He batted his eyes innocently.

“You tricked me.”

“No, my throat did tickle a little but all I needed was something to drink.” 

I turned to the drummer, “And you?”

He shrugged, “Percy’s plan. My leg’s a bit tired not hurt at all, or maybe you have magic hands.” 

My hand rubbed at my forehead in frustration and I groaned, why the hell did they think it was funny to waste an hour of my time that I’d have to report to Peter? He was easily set off if any misfortunate changes occurred and they would have to be the ones to tell them about all this because I wasn’t sure if he’d believe me. Besides, all the room service was charged to him and I asked for quite a few things that were only supposed to be used if they were actually sick. A terrible impulse to smack the singer’s arm popped into my head but I resisted it with a sharp look as I waited for an explanation.

“Well…?” 

“What? We came to see the doctor. That’s all.”

“When you didn’t need to.” I pointed out. “Why?”

“You’re not very reachable and you’ve been holed up on your own a lot. Just making sure you have some fun on tour, it’s not all strict work. And Bonzo got a nice massage out of it.”

I sighed and turned away for a moment, still wondering what gave them such a bright idea or what the intention was. My mouth opened to question them further, definitely going to mention the issue of informing Peter, when a pair of strong arms locked around my waist and pulled me backwards. I nearly shrieked until I realized I was just seated down onto my own bed between the two musicians that apparently still had a crafty plan in their minds. When I tried to get up, their hands latched onto me and pulled me back down. I didn’t even bother resisting.

“Now what are you both up to?”

“Returning the favor, if you would like it returned.” Robert explained simply.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “What do you mean?”

“Just relax, we’ll stop any time you say so. Don’t you trust us?”

“Not really. But fine, since I’m curious about this and it doesn’t look like you’re going to stop bothering me until I give in.”

“Right you are.” He grinned like a clever kid that got his way. “Now lie back for us, darlin’.”

Fuck it, I thought to myself as my body reclined back between them. My light jacket was pulled off my shoulders, my shoes and socks followed, then off came the jewelry. It was odd but not invasive or uncomfortable so I didn’t stop them and their wandering hands. I didn’t crane my neck to go see who was doing what, simply letting my head rest with my eyes lightly closed while I felt a warm hand smooth over my tensed shoulders or fingertips tracing the veins on my arms or the tickle of someone’s long hair on any of my exposed skin. Only when something even softer pressed against the back of my hand and trail up my arm did I tense momentarily. I really shouldn’t have let it get that far – my better sense was silenced from that point forward. 

When the pair of lips reached the edge of my t-shirt sleeve, they hopped over to the base of my neck then restarted their upward path. It was like a teasing tickle of a feather with how light it felt and the surprisingly strong reaction it provoked from me. But instead of withholding a laugh, I had to withhold a moan from coming out of my mouth. It was at that realization that I had to sit up and see where all of this misbehaving unprofessionalism was going. My eyes widened to see an ever-smirking Robert just over my chin and an amused John with his hand over my jean-clad hip. 

“Wh-Where are you two going with this?” I tried to sit up without colliding with the singer, a flush washing over me with the continued reminder that I really shouldn’t be doing this.

“Trying to make you relax. Clearly, we’ve got our work cut out for us, eh Percy?” 

“Yes… and it’s only going to take longer the more you keep interrupting. But you can always tell us to stop, is that what you’re doing?”

My stern judgement was blown off in the wind as I answered: “No, I don’t want you to stop.”

I heard a faint snicker just before they continued exactly where they left off. Soft lips gently pressed at the very edge of my chin and torturously slowly climbed their way up to my mouth while a large hand was reaching to hold the back of my head. Another pair of hands warmly rested along my navel, playing with the belt buckle until it came loose. I was happy to have the restraint removed, feeling much less tense without it and allowing myself to be manipulated around for a while – not be clutching onto control with paled knuckles all the time. Their apparent reasoning, true or bullshit pulled out of thin air, was fair and maybe I’d let things play out just this once… maybe come back to it if I wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, and it certainly didn’t feel that way at the moment.

After several moments of meandering around their target, the singer’s lips finally collided with my own with a featherlight delicacy and gradually eased more pressure against me while his untamable curls tickled my skin as they fell around me like a golden halo. I sighed lightly, the tension within me suddenly melting away. A rippled warmth spread across my stomach at an added sensation: John leaving a chaste kiss over the newly exposed skin of my abdomen when he slightly pushed up the hem of my shirt just a few inches. His hands slipped beneath the fabric, running along my sides and working the shirt up my torso when Robert finally moved aside to assist his efforts. 

“Can this come off? It’s getting in the way, y’know.” John asked, a mischievous grin on his face and his hands fisting the thin fabric at the sides of my ribs. 

I nodded, no hesitance in my decision at all and my hands raising willfully. 

“That’s much better, doctor.” The singer praised then shifted his attention elsewhere with a contemplative frown. “But I think there’s something else that will get in our way, particularly, these lovely trousers.”

This was like a fantasy manifesting in front of my eyes, one of their fans’ and, truthfully, one of my own. I couldn’t help signing up for the work and jump at the opportunity to meet them but keep things strictly professional so I wouldn’t get my hopes up or get fired. Just observe and talk with them if I could, this circumstance tucked away in the realm of the impossible until today. But I wasn’t about to come completely clean about all that now with my affirmative response.

“Please do, although you boys are overdressed.” 

They noted the shift silently between themselves, making no remark and happily receiving my new attitude towards their mischief. I slid up into a seated position when given a reprieve from their wandering hands, letting my own mimic their motions in turn starting with the singer, who already got a head start from when I had to remove his shirt. He gave me only a challenging look when my hands returned to the zipper and button of his jeans after letting the belt fall to the floor. 

“Having second thoughts?” I asked at his expression.

“No, just a warning – there’s nothing, ah, underneath these.” 

“I didn’t take you for being the shy type…”

“No, no, for your sake.”

“My sake?” I gave him an incredulous look. “How considerate, but I’m taking that as one less step for me rather than whatever you’re thinking.”

To prove my resolve, my fingers latched to the belt loops and tugged them down his hips with my gaze fixed on his expression which changed from slight surprise to a pleased little smirk. I teased him with a faint trace of my hand then turned my attention quickly to his bandmate, who was smiling in anticipation and made my job easier by shedding his t-shirt. His remaining dress was removed by my hands, deftly working apart the simple restraints and placing a kiss to one of his hipbones when the task was completed. His large hand rested at the top of my head, encouraging me to continue on my path down and urging me across in-line with the center of his body. I smiled against his skin and obliged, trailing my open mouth along his thigh then venturing to where his hand was ultimately guiding me. 

My palming hand teased him the same way I did the singer, only I played up our interaction: “Tell me, is this the real problem you came to see your doctor about?”

“Very observant of you, doctor.” 

“You’ll have to tell me where you require my assistance. What feels good, what you’d like me to do… it’s my job to help you feel the best you can, remember? Don’t be shy now.” I turned towards the waiting Robert with a strained look on his face, “That goes for you too.”

I heard him mutter a pained “fucking hell” under his breath when I turned back to his bandmate, my hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and languidly starting a rhythm along as I waited for an instruction. John’s head tilted back slightly but he kept his lidded eyes down on me as if taking in the sight for a few moments with a breath sighing through his nose. I raised my brows expectantly, still continuing my hand’s slow stroke up and down. 

He cleared his throat thickly then smirked over at the sight of his bandmate, “You seem to know very well how to take care of your patients. But poor Robert looks like he’s suffering there from a lack of your professional attention.”


	120. trouble (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "This idea is a bit out there but I’m hoping it sparks your interest lol!!... you and Jimmy are staying in a strange hotel during a tour and when you walk into your room it’s one of those cheap honeymoon suites with red linen and ceiling mirrors... so naturally you guys decide to make the most out of it (you know what I mean)"

“When you said it was out in the middle of nowhere, I thought you were just being overdramatic but I see that we really are in the middle of nowhere.” I softly confessed to Jimmy as we navigated the antiquated hotel that was the only building along the entire stretch of road.

They spent the evening performing in a fairly small city with a decent enough stage and plenty of people to fill the audience space, but our hotel was apparently located a 15-minute drive from that area. Only now did I realize that there really wasn’t much here. Jimmy reassured me down the hallways and up the headache-provoking, jolting elevator that he made sure to request the best possible room for the two of us in return for the rural location he didn’t even really want to perform at in the first place. As he unlocked the door to the “grand suite”, as indicated in a curling scrawl on the ornate heart-spotted sign over the door, it became clear that this room matched the rest of the building. The walls looked like bright pink strawberry milkshakes had been used to paint them and the shagged carpets were a questionably cleaned red velvet cake under our shoes. All the furniture was in matching shades of rich, warm reds and heart-shaped wherever possible. Mirrors seemed to be positioned almost everywhere and we could see ourselves wander hesitantly through the room. I pursed my lips as I took it all in at Jimmy’s side then burst into laughter, trying to alleviate the obvious tension in the room. 

“Well, I’d hate to see what the other boys’ rooms look like.” I shook my head, wondering why in the world a hotel would spend so much money on an over-the-top room like this.

He nodded in consideration, his eyes giving away the displeased thoughts he didn’t want to voice. 

“C’mon,” I took him by the hands. “Let’s make the most of it, given that there probably won’t be any other rooms like this along the way.”

“Thank the fucking gods for that.” He mumbled.

“Just give me a few minutes to freshen up a bit.” I insisted, taking my luggage into the bathroom and locking the door behind me so he couldn’t get a head start on what I had in mind to change his sour mood.

I stifled a chuckle when I noticed the massive heart-shaped bathtub up on a podium of pink tile surrounded by mirrors and the matching shape of the sinks, mirrors, drawer handles, etc. It was so overdone. I could only imagine the things that took place in this room as I zipped open my suitcase for a change of clothes. My hands slipped off the now far-too-restraining pair of jeans and fitted t-shirt, leaving me fairly scantily clad even as I swathed myself in a sheer, pathetic excuse, of a babydoll nightgown with tiny feathers puffing at the lining. I primped the rest of my appearance for a few moments until my reflection was satisfactory, feeling a bit more dressed up with those few simple adjustments and stepping out to greet the disgruntled, scowling guitarist reading over a tour schedule on one of the red upholstered loveseats. Sitting down at his side, I slung my legs up over his lap and looked to him for his attention. 

“Jimmy…?”

“Hm?” He glanced up from the paper with sleepy eyes and they suddenly widened in delight of the sight before him. “Oh, hello.”

“You look stressed, baby.” I crooned, tracing my fingertips along the side of his cheek.

“And you look like you know how to help with that, my dear.” 

“I’ve got a few ideas…”

My hands meandered down to the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the first two or three and playing with the next one. His eyes observed my every movement studiously like he was trying to keep his expression from betraying the privacy of his inner thoughts. I kept going and looking to him, waiting for his inevitable seize of power from me. But first, I was granted a chance to even out the playing field at least in terms of dress as I slid closer to his welcoming lap. His ornate shirt was the first to go with his belt following, my hand setting the zipper of his leather pants free and slipping through the gateway it revealed. At this, Jimmy’s eyes became cat-like: wide with focus, luminous from curiosity, expressive yet blank. The muscles in his stomach tensed, his lips parted, and his breath hitched in his throat – all subtle signs that I was succeeding in my efforts to take his mind off of things. 

But I retracted my hand all too soon, purposely leaving him entirely unfulfilled and reaching for his hand instead to pull him along to a more accommodating space – which happened to be the plush, velvet-draped, utterly huge, obviously heart-shaped bed through the adjoining room with only a dim light to illuminate it as a cheap mimic of candlelight. But its not-so-tasteful style was easily overlooked, given the desperation with which I was followed into this room and hovered over when I reclined on the plush duvet. Jimmy pushed the thin sheer material off my shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to my skin and roaming along my collarbones then following down the curve of my bra. His hands sneakily wrapped around to the rear side, unclasping it easily to give himself more skin for his lips to bring attention to as the straps slipped off my shoulders.

“I like your ideas, Y/N, very effective and immediate.” Jimmy confessed, his tongue peeking over his lower lip just before it began to teasingly lap at my chest and aim to reach the stiffened peak below.

“Mmm, it’s a pleasure.” I smiled, raking my fingers up into his thick black hair and pulling him closer into me.

“You know, this does feel a bit like a dirty film. Strange setting, seedy place, mirrors all over the place, your perfect words in that sultry tone… except this is better because I can control it and feel it.” 

“And there’s no camera crew peeping at us.”

“Or so we think.” He joked, leaning in closer so his lips dragged along my skin as he continued: “Even if there was, let them see how fucking beautiful it is when you cum and hear all those pretty noises you make in my ear when you’re just on the verge of madness.”


	121. fortune teller (robert plant x fem!reader/OC)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader or fem!OC who doesn't get a name, but is the title character  
> Warnings: none

An aroma of sweet burning wax swirled through the warm air of the dimly lit room, only Tiffany lamps and candles lighting his path over to the mystic woman’s patterned cloth-covered table. Her head was bowed down and her ring-clad hands lied flat over the table while she sat over a decorative cushion on the floor with her legs crossed beneath the fabric of her loose clothes. The room was deathly silent and Robert’s steps fell muted against the dark wood floor until he lowered himself to sit across from the fortune teller. At first, nothing happened. She didn’t raise her head nor give any acknowledgement to her visitor as her body remained rigidly still. The visitor took a moment to observe his settings – no crystal ball or little sachet of coins as offerings for her services but walls lined with draped rich fabrics, old paintings, small iron candleholders, strands of beads or dried natural things, tall bookcases filled entirely – impressed by its majesty and wishing to explore more of it but not wishing to overstep his boundaries. 

A sudden, tight grasp at his wrist recaptured his attention and he gasped at the almost painful sensation. The woman still had her head bowed down and her body seemed to be quaking, the jewelry she wore jangling at her spasming motions. Then they ceased as quickly as they’d come on. Her grip on his wrist eased but she reached for the other, taking them as though the contact would help her see without her eyes looking up. Robert opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could come out, she silenced him with a harsh shush. He fell to her whim and wondered to himself about what she was doing.

“I will judge before I hear you speak or see your face. But what have you come to me for?” She spoke in a voice that sounded woven from cigarette smoke and the tones of wise-beyond-years literary heroines.

“A reading.”

She chuckled, “What kind?”

“The, uh, tarot cards.”

“I see.” Her hands slunk off of his and she retrieved a deck of gold filigreed cards from, seemingly, thin air then placed them on the tabletop.

She rapidly shuffled through the deck and spread the cards into neat lines before him, muttering under her breath as she proceeded with her ritual. When every card had been set onto the table, her hands reached to her visitor’s chest like they were seeking something… and then stopped over a very particular spot over his sternum. Her fingertips circled over the region and drew away together, as though holding something delicate between them then releasing her hold on the invisible object over the cards. She let out an audible sigh, followed by a deep inhale – she was gathering her energies.

“Take one of your hands and guide it over the lines slowly, pick the three cards which feel different when they come under your hand. Then you will see past, present, and future.”

“Alright.” He affirmed, following her instructions and oddly being able to feel exactly what she described very vividly – feeling a heat arising from only three cards as his hand hovered above them.

Robert took up the three cards, arranging them in order of which he felt first to last. Her spread hands reached over his selections and there was a smirk in her quiet laugh as she sat back. 

“What? What is it?” 

“Flip the cards first, Robert.”

He didn’t question how she knew his name and turned the cards. 

“Past – king of wands – you’ve been granted influence, respect, and leadership with the need of quick maturity to accommodate these changes. Wands rule consciousness and activity over passivity.” She recited, still not lifting her head to face him.

“That’s accurate.” He confirmed casually, thinking it was a trick or the rainbow effect. 

“Present – two of cups – cups, which preside over emotions and relationships. I won’t reveal all I see with just my hand over the card and your spirit that I cast over them, as it may not be fully true, but this card represents partnership or attraction.” 

He hummed in understanding but remained silent, not quite sure how to respond to the quasi-accusation.

“Future – wheel of fortune – you have luck and your destiny awaiting you.” 

“Not very illuminating, my destiny is in my future.” 

“Readings are for relatively near time intervals, not distant. You will very soon realize your destiny. Perhaps that is the luck you’re bound to strike.” She offered, collecting the cards with smooth swoops of her hand over them and stacking them back into a neat deck.

“Yeah, sure…” He trailed off. “Is there any way you’d consider telling me what else you saw?”

“Based on the interaction of your present and future cards, the destiny you’ll soon meet is related to relationships. And your life moves quickly, yes?” 

“Yes.”

Her head shook side to side, “This may not be exactly accurate… but I see the realization occurring tomorrow. And you’ll return right back here. I can’t foretell any more than that.”

His brows knit together with such an odd confrontation. Perhaps she was playing at an angle or spouting nonsense that he couldn’t really question. He wasn’t sure what to do but he didn’t want to leave quite yet. There were too many questions swirling around his head about the whole affair, figuring that maybe this endless loop of mystery was what really drew his bandmate into the world of the mystic.

“You don’t believe me.” She stated. “Would you like me to prove myself?”

“With all due respect, yes.”

“I know there is much room for doubt in my work, especially to those who don’t dabble in it themselves and can’t tell frauds from honest people. Ask me something that I couldn’t possibly know about you just from a glance… or a magazine.”

He thought for a moment before hesitantly posing his question to her and receiving an instant, correct, answer. More questions followed rapid-fire and she didn’t miss a single one. She didn’t pause nor falter at all. Her visitor grew confused and almost frustrated, his eyes searching around the room as though he’d find something that could ease his muddled head. The mystic woman took his hands, calmly, and she reassured him that everything was perfectly alright. But it wasn’t satisfactory enough to stop his mental reeling and he broke from her touch, reaching to her until he felt the curve of her chin then drew it upwards swiftly – finally seeing this stranger’s face. Her skin was youthfully radiant and smooth but her deep-set, shadow-lined eyes looked as though they’d seen far too many years on the earth. The rest of her features were indescribable and his heart began to pound in his ears, sparking his body into action. He fled from the room at her intense gaze and the unfamiliar feeling spreading through him after what he’d done, speeding through the building then down the streets until he was locked up in the privacy of his room. 

The harsh fluorescent light was almost hospital-like and he tried to reason through his thoughts now that he wasn’t in as mystical a setting. His chest still heaved with breath and the rush of adrenaline. Robert swore he’d seen her face before, it was so unique that it would’ve been impossible for anyone to have forgotten such a visage. The fact that she knew all those things about him… her powers had to be real but they were spooking. Amidst this, he almost forgot the fortune she gave him with the cards and the extra details her apparent visions granted her. Though he wasn’t sure he’d be visiting her the next day or, quite frankly, ever again. It was too daunting, too invasive, too unknown. Maybe he’d send Jimmy over to sort through it, being someone who knew a bit more on how these things worked. Or he’d come back just as startled as Robert was now. 

Sleep evaded him even in the wee hours of the dawning morning. The room, the cards, and, most prominently, her face lingered in his mind like they’d been branded into his brain. He could see it all in front of his eyes like he was back there, her all-knowing eyes peering into and through him. Closing his eyes only made the sight more vivid. He tossed and turned, trying to read a book or find some other method to bring himself reprieve from the trick his mind was playing with him. Nothing helped, and he could only figure to return to the fortune teller, as she foretold, to make it stop no matter what she might demand in return. Only then did he piece together some story where everything was connected – perhaps her gifts showed her only the truth and he was meant to return to her no matter whether he made her face him or not, or she was punishing him for doing so. Either way, the only way he’d find an answer was to pay her another visit.


	122. rough justice (jimmy page x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '70 Jimmy Page x fem!reader celebrating his birthday after the RAH show  
> Warnings: nsfw, fairly rough

I was surprised when we ended up back at the hotel, upstairs in our room, rather than the raging afterparty planned for Jimmy’s birthday after the amazing Albert Hall show they’d just done. He apologized profusely with the excuse of work tasks finally catching up to him and his fingers being tired out, claiming that he simply had to go rest. No one bought it but let him off the hook to spend his birthday however he pleased, assuming that he would prove just how not-exhausted he really was up in the room with me. But when we were alone, he still kept the same drowsy demeanor. 

The only light came from the bathroom as he fixed his long hair to his liking, sighing when he turned around and giving me a tired smile. I had changed into a loose slip, sitting expectantly at the foot of the bed with a questioning hanging at my lips that I had yet to find the courage to speak aloud. As Jimmy sat beside me, the bed dipped and his arm slung loosely over my back while my head reflexively rested over his shoulder. It was quiet, and dark, and peaceful, and not how I expected the evening to go. He didn’t seem to want to celebrate his birthday – rather the opposite with his sulky behavior. If that’s what he wanted, I was fine with that. But if he let me change the dynamic to something a bit more suitable, I wasn’t going to let him spend the rest of the night like this.

“Jimmy…?” 

“Yes?”

“I want to ask you something out of my own curiosity, I’m not going to say anything to anyone else. And if it’s an imposition, you can just change the subject and I’ll understand.”

His arm drew back hesitantly but he let me continue.

“Is it true that you have, or I guess partake in, those um… indulgences that the magazines and rumors through the grapevine mention?”

“How do you mean?” He replied, tone steely and emotionless.

My face flushed and my eyes looked down to the floor as I cautiously answered with more detail, “Like with whips and stuff?”

“What sort of personal curiosity made you come to that question?”

My voice hushed, “Because if you did I wanted to know why you didn’t use them on me yet.”

He pulled back, a glimmer of astonishment in his eyes and a hint of a smile over his lips as we faced each other. A silence fell over the conversation and I expected him to leave me with either a heartfelt response or a change of subject. Neither occurred. His hand reached to the side of my face as he pressed a kiss to my forehead and dismissed himself to the bathroom again.

“This could be a long talk and I’ve got to change out of these clothes, take a shower, y’know… just wait right here until I’m done. I promise it won’t take long.”

“Okay.” 

Slipping away again, I was left in the dark room and remained fixated upon the little slit of light coming from beneath the bathroom door as water started pouring. The late hour seemed to catch up with me, the ache in my feet and back from standing at the side of the stage for so long making my body slump down over the crisp sheets. I wouldn’t fall asleep on such a conversational cliffhanger even if my eyelids were heavy and firmly shut over my eyes. Besides, the sound of running water was still fairly loud through the muffling of the door. I couldn’t possibly fall asleep. 

The sudden switch of a bright lamplight turning on made my eyes shoot open and my calm breaths turn into a gasp. Shit, I had fallen asleep. Jimmy stood smugly at my side, looking at me as I tried to sit up only to realize that I couldn’t. Smooth leather wrapped around my wrists and at my ankles, holding me firmly in place. My eyes widened in realization of what he’d done and that my idea worked… and that I would finally experience something that I’d wanted to with him. An exhilarated wave of energy pulsed through my body. I opened my mouth to speak but he halted me with a genuine look of concern.

“If you don’t want to do this or feel unsure right now, tell me and I’ll undo it all.” 

“Why would I bother asking you about something I know is private to you if I didn’t want it?”

“Is there anything you’re strictly not willing to try?”

“Not at all, I’m all yours for anything you want.”

He cleared his throat, turning stoic in the blink of an eye, “Fine. You aren’t allowed to speak unless I tell you so, you can make noise just as long as it isn’t talking, I’ll immediately stop if at any point you decide against it, don’t resist it unless you want a punishment. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Jimmy, please just get on with it. I want you to be your roughest, do anything you want. It’s your birthday, after all.”

He raised a brow in question, deciding to test the limits of my statement and starting by loudly ripping apart the only, very thin, piece of fabric over my frame. Right down the middle. I felt a shiver chime down my back from the action and from the sudden exposure to the room’s cool night air. He sank his teeth into my gooseflesh-covered skin starting at the base of my neck then paused in his downward path at my chest, biting down harder and tugging at the sensitive points to elicit helpless whimpers from me as my arms pulled against their restraints. He moved on when I was on the verge of screaming, darkened bruises obviously going to be patterned along my skin in the morning and he’d barely started. My back arched up into his mouth, allowing his hands to easily slip under to the curve of my back and rake his nails along it while trying to lift me closer up towards him. 

When he reached my navel, he slowed his pace to torment me… getting lower and lower… never quite low enough… then redirecting his swollen lips to one of my thighs. A deceptively soft kiss was planted over it, then he bared his teeth like a starved wolf about to devour its unfortunate prey. I bit my lip down to brace myself as they enclosed over the flesh of my thigh and tugged, shifting around the same region to repeat the motion until dented teeth marks were imprinted into my skin. This was different than I expected, but I was liking it. The purposeful indelicacy and harshness, challenging to see how much I could take or if I could make it through his torture. 

“Are you alright, darling?” He crooned mockingly.

“I can take a whole lot more.” I replied. 

“We’ll see about that. Though you’re pretty good for someone who isn’t used to this.”

“Do your worst.” I insisted.

He released me and disappeared out of my sight for a few moments. I shifted around at the cold air now that I noticed it without his touch and to try soothing away some of the uneven waves of arousal that were making me squirm. Then came a mind-clearing whack right to my sensitive, drenched core and a formerly-kneeling, sweater-less Jimmy arose to watch my bewildered reaction. He drunk it in with arrogance and delivered another blow to me, a louder smack resounding in the air as I cried out this time. It was becoming harder to stay quiet and he only kept going mercilessly, eventually resorting to shoving one of his scarves from behind his back into my agape mouth to muffle my screams. He turned the paddle-like object around to observe it, noticing the sheen on there from me and tutting in disappointment.

“I’ll have to clean this now… you know what this means for you.”

I wanted to protest, argue that he was being unreasonable, but the scarf in my mouth kept me from saying anything at all. It was clear that he had just been looking for any excuse to take things up a notch. His hand hovered over the heat between my legs, never quite touching so far as a test while his eyes stared at me in wait. But I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a thrashing reaction. This, instead, earned me contact – almost too much contact from his unquestionably gifted strumming hand as it practically vibrated over my folds, pressing into me but never pushing through to tease my entrance. A desperate cry of his name was lost to the soaked fabric of his scarf and I felt saliva starting to build along the sides of my mouth, my throat already growing hoarse.

“Still not enough for you, dear?” 

I stared straight back up at him, neither defiantly nor helplessly and secretly hoping he’d let up without bruising my sense of pride.

“Mm, I can tell you’re very close. I should stop right now while you’re on the precipice and leave you like this, all tied up so you can’t finish yourself off and left open.”

I shook my head wildly this time.

“No? What do we say?” 

His hand reached to retrieve his drenched scarf from my mouth so I could chant a serious of hushed, overlapping pleas. My head was spinning and I could feel every muscle in my body contracting little by little as his hand kept at its lightning quick movements. As a reward for my honesty and obedience to his wishes, he kept providing electrifying stimulation with growled directions to let go already. My face felt sweaty and tense like the rest of my body, the final point of total tension before the dam broke then all my muscles went slack. The restraints kept my arms and legs higher up but the rest of me dropped over the sheets, feeling a slick wetness dripping right out of me. The hand there was instantly replaced with his silken tongue and suctioning mouth, collecting every last drop until I felt entirely drained.

Jimmy sat back and wiped his glistening chin, “Not a bad start, yeah?”

“If that was a start, let me return the favor first. I don’t think I could stand on my legs right now.” I confessed, an overwhelmed lilt in my voice. 

“You’re a quick learner, I was going to fuck your mouth and cum down your throat next.”

If my arms were able to move, I would’ve pulled him up to my mouth for that sinfully perfect response. It was hard to believe how profound of an effect he had on me, like I didn’t care if anyone heard my cries or how immoral his filthy words were. It was just me pursuing exactly what I wanted with him and Jimmy gladly obliging my desires, sometimes almost clairvoyantly like he knew what I wanted before I could say or even think of it. It made for a perfect, intimate, way of marking the occasion (and quite literally given the state of my bruised skin).


	123. helplessly hoping (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x reader after the 1970 RAH gig  
> Warnings: none
> 
> this is like an alternate version of the last chapter :)

request: "if you could throw in Jimmy proposing after the concert in another chapter that would be awesome but take your time writing it no pressure!"

I was surprised when we ended up back at the hotel, upstairs in our room, rather than the raging afterparty planned for Jimmy’s birthday following the amazing Albert Hall show they’d just done. He apologized profusely with the excuse of work tasks finally catching up to him and his fingers being tired out, claiming that he simply had to go rest. No one bought it but let him off the hook to spend his birthday however he pleased, assuming that he would prove just how not-exhausted he really was up in the room with me. And Jimmy certainly did, although not in the way that people had predicted he would. 

His feet paced the floor of the bathroom as he flitted around, playing with his hair and searching for various other things almost mindlessly. When I asked if he was alright, all I received was a nervous, not very reassuring, smile from his reflection in the mirror as I sat at the foot of the bed. Jimmy took a noticeable breath and slowly let it fall through the expanse of his lungs, then calmly walked back over to me with determination in all his features besides his uncertain eyes. Only the light of the bedside lamp illuminated the dark room, the crescent moon outside not bright enough to glow through the crack between the curtains. I looked up to him with curiosity when he planted himself firmly between my knees and my hands reached for his in hopes to help him gather courage for whatever he was trying to communicate. His eyes still didn’t meet mine as his pouted lips parted to begin his hesitant speech.

“This is going to sound very silly but I ask that you let me finish without saying anything. I’m probably going to stumble over my words and I’ll never be able to say enough of what I want to express nor adequately, but this is the best I can manage to do in the moment.” 

His eyes flickered to mine for a moment, just for confirmation and I nodded for him to continue.

“This might seem a bit rushed, though I’m honestly surprised that I didn’t realize this sooner, and I think this is the right occasion for me to be doing this… but I honestly can’t imagine a person who would be more compatible to myself, as a person, and this sort of lifestyle and being able to navigate through it the way you have… and I hope your thoughts also see things the same way. It just feels like all of this was intentional, not just miraculous luck that brought us together like this. So… so, I don’t think I need to waste time thinking over a decision when it’s clear that intuitively I’ve already made the decision. All that’s left is to see if you agree and want to pursue this, um, path, if you like.” 

Jimmy cleared his throat and finally met my gaze as he sank down at my feet almost clumsily.

“Why are you getting down? If it’s not comfortable, just stand up for goodness’ sake.”

“Because that’s how it’s done properly. And didn’t I request that you didn’t interrupt me?” He reminded begrudgingly as he adjusted his strange kneeling position on the floor for better balance as his one knee rose to stay in-line with his hip.

I recognized the posture and connected the dots with all his back-tracking sentences, anxious gaze-aversion, fiddling with his hands as they reached to his jacket pocket.

“Y/N, if you agree with all those things I said earlier and you’re exceptionally clever enough to figure out what I’m doing here, albeit not how I planned in mind, will y- ?”

I reached for his hands cupped over a cubed wooden box before they could open it, guiding him back up towards me and up from the clearly uncomfortable kneeling position. Jimmy seemed bewildered when I slipped the box from his hands and carefully placed it down on the bed behind me as I stood up directly before him. My hands reached for his again and I looked him right in the eyes, my heart feeling like a lit firework on the teetering precipice of going off into a dazzling, fiery explosion. But I kept myself collected for just a few moments to explain myself more clearly to him.

“You don’t have to go through all those silly little traditional motions only to ask a question, James. But my answer is yes.” 

His arms seemed to reflexively throw themselves around my frame, squeezing me tightly until I could barely breathe even though I couldn’t really feel it with the incredible pressure blossoming over my lips from his. It was more frantic and swept-up in emotion than anything else I’d ever experienced, with him or anyone else. My hand reached to comb through his thick waves, tugging gently but hard enough to elicit a pleased hum from the depths of his throat against me. Only when it felt like I had completely run out of air did I have to push him to let me go, breathing hard but too happy to pay it any mind.

“It’s certainly been a very happy birthday to me, hasn’t it?” He mused to himself, adoringly observing my flustered state.

I took a deep breath and hinted: “Not yet it hasn’t, I was going to give you the rest of your gift once you got over here and make sure you spent every minute of today pleased, or maybe satisfied is a better word for it.”


	124. hope (john bonham x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Bonham x reader  
> Warnings: angst for sure, anxiety/perfectionism, etc.

A knock came at the door that made my heartbeat turn frantic and my arms tremble. I sucked in a breath through my nose, wiping my eyes with my sleeve as I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole to see who was there. Shit, if they were my neighbor I felt bad. The week had been overwhelming and I nearly through my telephone out of the window at least ten times, leading to the last hour’s session of me finally cracking under the pressure. Crouched over on the floor in the dark with only moonlight from the window, tears sticking to my cheeks as they stung my eyes, my whole body trembling, my head swirling with self-deprecating thoughts or realizations, and quite sobs slipping through my mouth even though I tried to stifle them as best as I could. The walls must’ve been thinner than I thought.

There was a man standing in the hallway, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently but not looking irritated on his face. I wiped my eyes again and tried to breathe deeper, making sure my voice would be steady for when I’d have to speak. The locks clicked open as I undid them and pulled the door partially open with my brows raised expectantly as I greeted the stranger. But my eyes averted themselves, staring down at the floor when he began to speak out of shame for being so loud and probably overreacting.

“Are you alright?” He asked after introducing himself briefly as John, indeed my neighbor. “You seem distracted or upset.”

I glanced up and plastered a smile over my mouth, “No I’m just tired. I’ve been working all week is all.”

“Are you sure?” 

My head bobbed in a subtle nod. A tremor ran through me, probably since I hadn’t eaten much in my daze of work and then the following fall into sad despair, which was apparently noticeable enough for him to observe. He rushed to my side and placed his hands firmly over my shoulders as though to stabilize me. I reassured him again that it was fine, throwing a different excuse for this at him and hoping that he would just leave me be. Although it was oddly different to have someone check in like this, so genuinely… I kind of liked it, though I presumed that was just from getting attention that didn’t involve extra responsibilities or harsh expectations being pushed onto my shoulders. 

“Do you mind if I bring you inside and help you sit down?” He asked, carefully coaxing me into my own apartment after I gave a hesitant, ashamed nod.

Limply, I let my body fall back onto the couch and curiously watched him as he sat down then observed me with concern shining in his forest green eyes. His large hands captured mine within them and I was struck by how cold my body temperature had been relative to his. They smoothed over the backs of my hands to warm them and he asked no other questions, just waited for me to say something while he continued his motions. But I pursed my lips to keep quiet since I clearly embarrassed myself in front of him already and there wasn’t any need for me to burden him further.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink in the last few hours?” John inquired.

I shook my head.

“You’ve got a brutal job if it’s making you like this.” 

“Yeah, I guess so…”

“Really, you almost seem sick. Do you want to see a doctor?”

“No, this happens sometimes. I just get really distracted or overwhelmed for a little while and this happens, then I’m alright by the next morning.”

“You’ve got to take breaks, love.” He reminded. “Would you want to come to mine for now? I won’t try anything at all, just so you don’t have to do anything and just relax for a few minutes.”

I looked up at him with guilt over my face, “I don’t want to impose at all. I mean, we’ve barely met and you’re already doctoring me.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I wouldn’t mind the company at all either.”

“Okay… just for a little bit.” I reasoned, standing up with the help of his hand and following him to the next door over after I briefly locked mine.

The light switched on immediately to a golden-lit room and I was seated down in the living room, assured that he’d be right back. A granny squared quilt was offered to me and placed over my shoulders before I could respond. I sat there, feeling helpless and guiltily grateful, then started to observe the room. It felt warm – not just by the temperature – but the warm tones of the furniture, the coziness of how it looked lived-in, the orange-striped wallpaper, and just the feel of how life was in here. A polar opposite to my own home with just the most necessary pieces of furniture, sterile white practically all over it, the cold temperature since I kept forgetting to turn the heater on, the stacks of dull paperwork that covered tables or counters rather than magazines or books that I liked. 

A steaming cup of tea was placed carefully into my hands, wafting the smell of cinnamon and oranges into my nose. But my continued spiral of unhappy thoughts didn’t end when the kind host sat down beside me, offering anything else I might like as he placed down a tin of biscuits in front of me. All I truly wanted was for this cycle to stop. I shook my head, blowing on the tea and taking a sip between his words. There was a little sweetness from honey that I tasted in it and I could feel its warmth trickle down through my frame to my stomach. My head and stomach started to pang numbly, but at least I wasn’t shivering anymore. I only began to question why he was being so generous to me. But there was something genuine in the forest green-brown in his eyes and gentle features framed with soft, dark brown hair that just barely reached his shoulders. 

“Why d’you throw yourself into your work like that? You can’t be expected to work like you aren’t a human being.” 

I looked to him for a moment then back down, knowing I had no answer to his question.

“Alright, I won’t bother you about that if you don’t want to talk about it. Can you tell me your name?” 

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiled jovially. “How long have y- ?”

“I’m sorry we had to meet under these conditions. But you’re unmistakably kind. I suppose I owe you an explanation, though I’m not really sure why this keeps happening to me. The only way I can reason it out is that I want to be thought of as perfect – having everything prepared in advance, being as thorough as possible, taking up extra tasks, working on things alone so I can make sure that they’re perfect, working long hours. Though I think I’m slipping off that track each time I end up in this low state when it becomes too much in my mind.”

I bit on my lower lip after that confession, nervously gauging a reaction from John when all he did was just nod in understanding. His hand smoothed over my shoulder and he seemed entrenched in his thoughts. I tried to keep from guessing what he was thinking, knowing that my mind would jump to the conclusion of him being critical of me. Any time I managed to be honest, people would dismiss it and say to just relax or they became judgmental – so I learned to harden my exterior when their true reaction eventually made itself known then walk away. It was just how I was, not something I could change overnight nor change when people called me crazy or whatever else. 

“Would it be alright if I came to check on you every so often? Not every single day, but maybe once a week. To see if you’re doing okay.” He offered.

I could feel the dried tear tracks that my sleeve missed on my cheeks as a new prickling of tears gathered in my eyes. Honestly, I didn’t even know why I was getting so emotional. It would make me feel guilty to just accept the help like that. But it was clear that I couldn’t manage myself. I took a deep breath, feeling a few aches along my diaphragm and reaching a decision in my mind.

“Okay. Only if it’s convenient for you.”

“You live right next door, it’s not inconvenient at all.” He pointed out. 

For some reason his amused comment made me crack, the tears slipping down onto my cheeks again but a smile starting to widen over my face as I laughed softly. He returned my smile and changed the discussion to less sensitive topics, clearly trying to make me laugh again so the mood from before was left far behind in my mind. My headache seemed to fade and my stomach only seemed to hurt from laughing heartily. Hours ticked by unnoticeably and I noted how easily he managed to alter my mood. But I must’ve been exhausted, finding myself asleep against his shoulder the next morning when bright sunlight streaming in from the hardly-covered windows made my eyes blink open.


	125. the enchantress (david bowie, jimmy page, & robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: first, David Bowie x fem!reader then, Jimmy Page & Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: very nsfw, some more kinky stuff later

request: hi i have an idea for a requests if that’s ok⚡️⭐️ (you could break in into two parts if that would help??) basically instead of the kind of penny lane groupie but instead of being American she’s British. (allusive/with a wild,kinky reputation). rockstars chase her opposed to her chasing them. so a david bowie x fem, and a fem x robert&jimmy threesome. david meets her after a show takes her back to his hotel... when he’s back over in the US he runs into robert, tells him all about the rendezvous. (zep has been touring in the US, & have heard whispers of her and that only). after talking to bowie him & jimmy track her down to see if the rumours are true! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The colorful London crowd that mimicked their appearances to the idol onstage screamed when he bid them a goodnight with a crooked grin and rushed to his esteemed guest for the evening, still standing patiently in the wings. It’d been difficult to get her to come to the show – not because she didn’t want to – she was a busy lady with plenty of other offers standing for her night and it took convincing to make her think coming to his show that night instead would be worth her while. Gold glittered over her eyelids in the stage lights and she welcomed him with open arms, congratulating him on a wonderful show while the others navigated their way back to the dressing rooms. She followed them, charismatically garnering the attention of the room without seeming conceited or untrue to her character and having easy conversations with anyone.

“You know, I did come to one of your shows a while ago. You were a blond then.” She teased David off to the side of the room, raking a hand through his perfectly slicked back red hair.

“Would you have recognized me if it wasn’t for publicity?” 

“You always have the same eyes and smile… I think I would.” She reasoned.

“But you hadn’t met me before, how would you know such things?” He challenged.

“I have my ways, I assure you. Aside from magazine covers and all.” 

Y/N bat her long eyelashes and reached for a cigarette, David offering out his lighter instinctually as though to stay in her good graces with every measure possible. She smiled with it between her pouty lips and blew out a cloud of smoke after he lit it, tossing her hair back over her fur-lined coat as she held the cigarette between her manicured fingers. Her hand raised occasionally in a wave or peace sign in acknowledgement to the passersby she recognized – roadies, other girls, lucky fans, even stagehands. David mused that she must’ve come here often to see her friends or people like him who just wanted to meet such an acclaimed character, noting that she was difficult to forget just by the uniqueness and friendly nature of her demeanor. The manager gave a signal to the singer, making him reach for the crook of her arm and genteelly guide her out to the car waiting outside to transport everyone. 

Her platforms clopped against the hard floor for a few steps before she halted, “Where are you planning to take me? I agreed to come to your show, not go to some afterparty.”

“Won’t you?” 

“Where are we going?”

“Back to my room, if you would like to. It’s far quieter.”

Her eyes narrowed as they studied him, noting the buzz in his body language and hope in his mismatched eyes. He didn’t want quietness, but rather a sense of privacy from everyone else with her up there with him. Given what she’d indulged in backstage during the start of the show, the night would be rather unquiet and prolonged until the energetic stimulation eventually wore off. Not that she minded at all. It was amusing that he tried to charm her to his whim with eloquent words and an obvious lie.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll go with you. Because I want to.” She reminded.

He turned to face her, glancing to the sides before answering her about his invitation honestly: “I’ve heard many things about you, very good ones, and I was curious. You aren’t like some of these other people who come into the backstage scene who just want a lay with someone famous.”

“That’s better.” She cooed jokingly, pulling him along outside after everyone else. 

Sitting side-by-side in the bench seat of a sleek black car, they were clouded by swirling cigarette smoke from Y/N. It served as a thin veil around them as she leaned over towards him with an arm slung over his shoulder and giving him a taste of what awaited them later, starting with an achingly slow collision of her soft lips over his. A hand landed over her thigh and slunk its way up to the edge of her mini skirt, drawing it up higher while she teased the tip of her tongue along his lower lip. But even in just those short few minutes of the car ride, it became evident that any of the rumors about her skills were entirely true and maybe even understated. Y/N could elicit the awakening of muscles and feelings that had never felt so invigorated before, gradually spawning the most intense feeling of arousal from every single nerve. It was like the best kind of high that would only accelerate and rise further as the hours went by, into an exhausted, pleasured crash at the end of it. 

David could tell he was wrapped around her finger or just madly stirred by her the moment she pulled away to have another drag, his lips evidently a bit red and swollen already. A cocked grin hinted at her features when she noticed his very focused gaze still fixed on her for the remaining five minutes or so of the drive. The car stopped and she hopped right out, the singer pursuing her in a mindless daze when he slid across the seat through the open car door. Only when she turned expectantly to him in the red velvet-draped lobby did he remember that it was his room that he was supposed to be leading them to, that she didn’t know which room to look for. 

The staff managed to fairly successfully rope off the crowds of people who managed to find his place of residence for that night, though camera flashes blinded them on the way up to the elevator and their indistinguishable shouts muffled the sound of anything else. Up to the fourth floor and the elevator doors slid open with a ding. Y/N was led out by the crook of her arm again, through the surprisingly peaceful floor to the one room at the end of the hall furnished cleanly with grandiose touches of décor that suited David’s plain black-and-white, blazer-less suit look for the evening. His guest draped her warm coat down on an upholstered armchair fit for a dame and seated herself so it cloaked only her shoulders. Her demeanor had gone back to the quasi-serious tone, like she was conducting a professional interview with him that would inevitably turn very unprofessional within mere minutes.

“Tell me, David, what sort of interests do you have?” She began, her hands folded neatly in her lap after snuffing out the cigarette in an ashtray.

“Interests?” 

“Or do your tastes behind closed doors shift with your stage personas?” 

He raised his brows in understanding and nodded, “Just a good time.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh please. You mean there’s nothing specific that you want to try or like?”

“I don’t suppose so, nothing’s come to mind.” He chuckled timidly.

Her posture straightened out as she addressed him: “Does that mean you want full control and let things happen as you please, or that you want me to be in control?”

“Does it have to be so planned and scrutinized over? It almost sounds like a scientific process.”

Y/N cracked a smile, “Certainly not. I’ll leave it all up to you then.”

He moved to stand before her, offering a hand and letting the other linger over her frame when she stood to accept it. The elaborately paneled double-doors required the attention of his free hand for a moment to open them and continue their path to pick up where she’d cut them off during the car ride. Her hips swung slightly to a phantom tune and she twirled right out of his grasp as she let her back fall down over the bed so her feet just barely swung off the edge in her platformed heels. David knelt to unlatch the tiny little buckles around her ankles and slip them onto the floor before leaning over her with his hands hastily moving to unbutton the black waistcoat over the white button-up. 

Her lips ghosted over his as she made a hushed remark: “Why did you bother with so many layers if you wanted me to take them off anyways?”

“Sense of propriety.” He quipped, removing the waistcoat carelessly and leaning in to reconnect their lips with an impassioned gravity over her.

Y/N’s nails combed through his hair, landing at the low curve of his head and drawing him nearer while her legs wrapped loosely over his lanky, trouser-clothed ones. They found themselves pushing up closer to the headboard all while their kiss turned feverish and never broke. David’s hands smoothed along her bare shoulders and upper arms, gradually slipping down to the lace-edged hem of her loose tank top to ease over her head. Her fingers slid down over his shoulders around to his collar, returning the favor by unfastening the buttons of his crisp shirt and lingering her warm hands lower along his torso as a gesture to let her attention shift elsewhere. Their breathless mouths broke apart from each other, as difficult as separating two polar opposite magnets that wanted nothing more than to gravitate back into contact with their pair. He slipped the linen from his arms and tossed the shirt with his waistcoat, hanging back a moment when Y/N reached for the binds fastened around his waist then nimbly set them all free. 

The fabric of her skirt was bunched up over her stomach until he reached to desperately tug it right off her hips and legs, hands immediately finding their way under the sides of her panties over her thighs. There was a moment of pause as he savored the feeling of anticipation and her warm skin radiating against his, then he yanked them off with ferocity. She was basking in the attention now, feeling a skillful hand cupping over her heat and its fingertips start to circle right into the most sensitive region of her entire body. He didn’t need to force her to open up more with the guide of his hand, she was relaxed and buzzing with a new energy while her thighs parted instinctively to grant him more access. The tidal wave grew within her, higher and higher at his ministrations, until she reached to tear his hand away before she burst. After all, it would only be fair for her to give him the same kind of attention and he seemed to comply to the crafty glint in her eyes combined with the force of her arms raising him up beside her. 

“Just lie back, and let go.” She instructed after taking his place, her voice softening through to the end of the phrase.

A whimper fell from his parted lips when her hand finally wrapped around him with just the right pressure and lazily began a rhythm along his length as a starting point. Y/N knew how to read a receiver’s reaction and what typically worked like a dream, teasing to no end always adding to the intensity of the final motion of a tryst. Each sensation would initially be slight, additional stimulation provided progressively, prolonging things rather than throwing in every little thing all at once. The flickering tip of her tongue delicately added to the sensation her fisted hand provided him, like the teasing of a candle’s flame along him, and she earned a louder sigh from a quietly encouraging David who pleaded her to keep going. She smiled at his anguish before granting him his request with the envelopment of her mouth around just his prodding, leaking tip. 

“Shit, Y/N, please… please, more.” 

“Whatever you say, David.” She batted her eyes innocently, giving herself a moment to prepare with a deep breath. 

Her mouth fell open wide and her nails dug into his thighs, holding her breath while she slowly fulfilled his request to an extremity – working her way to get all of him down her throat as far as possible. She breathed cautiously through her nose when his hips involuntarily moved to meet her mouth, the pleasure too hard to resist since she took him so well. Her tongue massaged at the underside of his cock and her hands delicately grasped down lower. She kept her eyes fixed up on him when her mouth slipped off inch by inch, releasing him with a pop and a lick of her saliva-glistened lips. The singer groaned in frustration wanting her to either get back so he could fuck her throat or to pull her hips over his and almost violently make them come together to end her vicious habit of teasing everything out to the last second. 

“Come get on my lap, darling.” He insisted, keeping collected through his breathless tone while the remainder of his patience lasted.

“What if I’d rather ride your face instead?”

“I thought you agreed to let me take control, and right now I fucking need to be inside you.”

“Ooh, demanding… I like it.” She commented, crawling her way up to a wide kneeling position where he wanted her and curling her hands around the top end of the headboard. 

Her head rotated to rest against his shoulder and her lips ghosting over his neck – a momentary distraction while her hips slowly lowered over his. It was perfect torture to wait out and feel every moment of her progression, wanting nothing more than what lie ahead when she eased all the way down. He embraced her frame down at the small of her back, applying a slight pressure to make her go just a little faster and draw her closer into his own body. She felt like liquid heat radiating from walls of smooth silk, making for an impossible bliss at the tightness her still-clenched muscles created. The soft skin below her stomach and beneath the line of her hipbones dragged across his skin with every slight motion of her hips when she leaned forward into him. But that was only the beginning, as the singer found out. 

The easygoing initial pace Y/N set started to accelerate, like steadily pushing the gas pedal of a car, and she rolled her hips in isolation harder over his lap. His fingers grasped roughly at her ass, trying to control her movement only to find it impossible with how weak she had rendered him under her easy command, and he didn’t mind if this is what it felt like – erratic heartbeat, cool sweat soothing fiery skin, uneven breaths audibly pushing through agape mouths, a makeshift language of moans echoing through their throats, the electric waves of pleasure threading through their veins. David tilted his head back, beseechingly looking up towards Y/N and the girl understanding his signal, leaning down to crash their lips together, continuing their connection below up to their mouths. She started to falter, deeply groaning in a hum against his lips and momentarily breaking her rhythm with a rake of her nails down his chest. Her lidded eyes opened wider for a moment just to give him a demanding look.

“Ask for it.” He mumbled against her swollen lips. 

“Please, David, I need you to let me cum…” She pleaded in a sultry tone, partially grown deeper from her exertion.

The huskiness in her voice when speaking that plea drove him closer to the edge, pushing his hips harder into her, helping her along with one hand over her hip and the other reaching down to circle between her thighs. Her breaths fell in long, faint whimpers while her eyes begged him to keep going. She fought through the oncoming high – arching her back and letting her head fall into its arc as the rest of her body tirelessly forced her to hold her rhythm until she couldn’t do it any longer. Her perseverance outlasted David’s as she felt his teeth bite into her chest like a brace and sticky heat shooting up in pulses into her. But those sensations were enough to make her crash right after him, feeling her body let go after milking out the rest of his high and her head falling limply against his shoulder. Their synchronized heaving bodies recovered in that relaxed position for a few moments then Y/N slung her leg off him and fell onto her back beside him. 

“Well you certainly made it worth my time to spend the night with you.” She admitted with a light chuckle.

“I’m glad you think so, you more than live up to your reputation and I mean that as high praise.”

She fanned herself with her hand, feigning a starstruck and bashful reaction as she expressed her gratitude for the compliment. They shared a couple cigarettes and had one more drink each out on the room’s balcony before Y/N slipped away. He beckoned her to stay rather than wander the streets back to wherever she was going only for her to shake her head.

“I’ve got a plane to catch in six hours and I’m terribly under-packed. My American friends that I met last year in California invited me over for a while. I think they just want me to score some bands for them to meet but they’re all nice to me so might as well keep up the friendship.”

“When will you be back?”

She grinned, “Honestly? I never know. I’ll probably go to Chicago and New York for a while after that, see the states while I can if no one steals away too much of my time. I heard something about Zeppelin’s film being released in New York in a few months so maybe I’ll be there in time for that, surprised I have yet to run into them.”

“Oh I’m sure they’d be more than delighted to meet you, darling. Safe travels.” He bid with a wave as she showed herself out the door.

**********

Y/N was indeed lucky enough to have her travel plans go according to her, loose, schedule and found herself in New York through the whole month of October. She probably had a few more places to visit before heading home but nothing set in stone. California had been warm and welcoming through the summer months, she found herself quite adept at taking turns with her friends at manning the bazaar stand they would run each Sunday. Flocks of whimsical, fun-loving girls always surrounding her unless yet another musical acquaintance or friend-of-a-friend beckoned for her. One of these such people took her out to Phoenix for their band’s next tour date and she vanished after expressing her gratitude towards the time spent together. It felt like truly living, being able to move around to her own will and take up anything at all that she liked knowing that a friend was never too far away if she needed help.

By sheer coincidence, David also found himself in New York during the second and third weeks of October to do a television appearance for something then work a little bit of business throughout the rest of his time. At this point, he’d heard of Y/N being in the same city and considered trying to find her for another go at their night together in London. It wasn’t an easy task to track down someone who was almost nomadic in their living patterns – no permanent address nor phone number to reach her at. He didn’t want to have someone do the digging for him and his work was taking up most of the time there, striking at the inspiration while it came to him. Instead, a scheme came to mind for his across-the-block neighbors who’d be in for their film premiere event. It was easy to find them, knowing which invitations they accepted and which they didn’t, then he would only have to tell the story to get at least one of them to have the digging done at lightning speed. Besides, Y/N did say that she wouldn’t mind meeting their band and, given a particular band member’s interests, her rumored preferences would work perfectly with them. 

Fortune smiled upon him again – giving him a totally free day with only evening meetings the next day and a nearby welcome back party to the recently-arrived musical marauders. The night club was luckily dark, only flashing lights occasionally illuminating the madness taking place over its tiled floors. Indistinguishable bodies swayed and gyrated in a crowd to the upbeat song pumping through the speakers, glasses of drinks or lit cigarettes held up high in the air when not being consumed. It wasn’t too difficult to find who he was looking for with the break in the crowd as if there were invisible velvet ropes keeping the others from approaching their seats. A few daring people managed to slip into the scene and began pushing themselves into conversations or draping themselves over someone at the table. Their brash fronts weren’t entirely refused at all – some welcomed with a crooked grin or a casual remark. At David’s arrival, recognition flashed over their features.

“Hope I’m not imposing.” He began, stepping in front of the table and nodding greetings to everyone.

“Not at all, what are you here for?” The other singer welcomed him.

“Televised appearances, variety shows, business meetings, the like.”

“Ah, not a holiday for you.”

“No, tonight was just a fortunate break from the schedule. Though I did hear about a friend being in the city, maybe you’d know where to find her… I’d imagine that you would’ve met by now.” David baited, putting on an air of ignorance.

“Who are you lookin’ for?” 

“Y/N, you know her? She told me she was hoping to be here for your film premiere and she seems like someone who’d be part of your scene, so I assumed…”

Given Robert’s raised brows and interested gaze, he knew he had him hooked. It was hard to find someone of their position who didn’t know who she was, and barely anyone among them didn’t want to pursue her. Rumors of deliciously lascivious nights, incredible experiences, and her friendly demeanor went around fast with no arguments ever made against them. David mused that she must’ve had at least ten different songs written about her, being such an influential figure in their realm and an unforgettable person. Robert gave him a clueless shake of the head, but the curious green eyes looking in their direction from the side made it evident that their conversation was garnering just the right kind of attention.

“Ah, pity. Maybe you’ll find her after or at the premiere and finally meet her, the rumors are indeed true. I won’t be able to see her again this time ‘round but say hello from me, would you?” David requested as he started to step back from the table.

“Sure.” Robert nodded, waving a goodnight to him before turning over to Cole with a knowing look, a simple communication device that meant ‘you know what to do’. 

To his partial surprise, Jimmy gave him the same nod of acknowledgement and beckoned Robert closer. There had, for a while, been a bit of competition between the two of them – band leader against the lead singer – and this wasn’t excluded. Jimmy had a tendency to win since all he had to do was pull the I-gave-you-a-chance card, sometimes with the help of G’s slight preference towards him, and he would get his way. But there were occasions where he could argue into his own favor, make it inconvenient for the guitarist to keep fighting for something when an easy alternative existed. Or there was the incredibly rare compromise. When they seated themselves closely together this time for a conversation over the matter, it became clear that, given the special circumstances, this occasion was a very rare one where compromise was the immediate resolution. Jimmy had obviously heard of Y/N before and had his own ideas based on how her tastes apparently complimented his wonderfully, thinking that adding Robert into the equation would only make it more interesting rather than turning challenging. Robert instantly agreed to their terms, that applied if Y/N clearly accepted them as well or didn’t seek out only one of them. 

It was easy enough for their servient tour manager to find out what Y/N looked like, where she was staying at the moment, and where she’d likely be for the premiere whether or not she would be inside the theatre. The building security staff was instructed to permit her through to the seats nearest her hopeful hosts for the rest of the night or to just keep track of her so she wouldn’t run off. If she wasn’t anywhere in or around the building, they were to inform him and he’d have to try getting a hold of the free-spirited, frankly unpredictable, girl. Five minutes until the show began and she was nowhere to be seen. The pressure started to set in, only to be worsened when she still didn’t show ten minutes after the film started rolling. Cole had to leave his post in the theatre to go spread the word for a few other entourage members to call the number of the hotel she was staying it, visit if she didn’t answer, then search through likely places in the city if she wasn’t there. 

Y/N didn’t answer and her room was vacant when they “convinced” the staff to check in. It was a free for all from that point, with Cole staying back at the theatre building’s telephone to coordinate if they did find her. Their time to seek her out was the remaining two hours of the film and if she was still missing, then they’d just have to come back emptyhanded. It would’ve happened that way had she chosen to refuse their invitation anyways; Robert had probably considered that alternative. Jimmy, on the other hand, would probably be a bit grouchy for the rest of the night unless a good enough distraction arose. They both clearly looked forward to it and depended on people like Cole to make arrangements – the failure to perform would be disappointing but not the end of the world with the amount of other people crowded in the theatre, as well as those outside of it.   
But the beacon of hope came when there were only twenty minutes left to the movie, with Y/N’s arrival at the side entrance and asking the security guard if she could go inside to pick up her friend from the show. The guard recognized her, asked her name, then let her in even though he knew the excuse was phony – he was just following orders. She gave him a dazzling smile in gratitude and easily navigated her way around, bumping right into a frantic Cole who was pacing at the telephone. He nearly cursed out loud enough for everyone in the audience to hear and laughed in relief as he explained that she was a very long-awaited guest. 

“Well, you may consider inviting me first if you want me to arrive on time.” Y/N countered.

“We’ll remember that next time.” He quipped. “Stay right here, I’ll get Jimmy and Robert over as soon as the credits start rolling.”

“Lucky me.” She mumbled to herself as she nonchalantly lit a cigarette. 

News of her arrival sprung both of the musicians to their feet, quickly giving acknowledging looks and waves of gratitude towards everyone in their proximity since the film had ended. The rest of the audience must’ve thought they had to leave quickly for a plane or for security purposes, letting them practically run through the theatre back to where Cole said Y/N would be. They halted through the doorway, noticing that she was indeed standing right in the middle of the room with smoke curling from her deep cherry-painted lips as though acting as a femme fatale in a dramatic film. An anklet of tiny gold coins jingled when she took a step with her left foot and she was concealed in a sheath of emerald green lace from the knees up. An ornate ringmaster jacket a la Hendrix kept her shielded from the cool New York October night temperature. Even without speaking with her, it was obvious that she was a character to behold.

Y/N was observant of her surroundings and the two men standing frozen at the doorway were no exception. She tried not to break out smiling at, what looked like from her peripheral vision, their dumbfounded expressions. They might’ve just paused to gather themselves for a moment after their film event, then enter the room in a suave manner. Though that proved itself untrue when a decent amount of time passed by without them really moving, just standing and staring. Saving their pride, Y/N turned her head to them as if noticing their presence for the first time and introducing herself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you both, being a massive fan of your music.” She cheered with her free hand outstretched between them.

“As it is to finally meet you.” The guitarist smoothly replied, taking her hand up to his lips instead of for a handshake.

“Did you see any of the film?” Robert asked more casually, mimicking his bandmate’s motion and keeping her hand between his larger ones.

“No, I didn’t, I’ll have to catch it at a different showing. What was it like pretending to be movie stars?” 

“The most challenging task of my professional career.” Robert confessed in mocked dread.

“Oh please.” The guitarist muttered under his breath, adding something about ‘just shaking his ass in front of the cameras’ that Y/N happened to hear and stifle a chuckle at. 

Jimmy took note of her perceptiveness, wondering if she was also highly sensitive in other ways. She bantered jovially with the singer as the three of them were being escorted to the backseat of a sleek car outside; her interactions with the guitarist were more quietly cunning, like she could mirror whoever was speaking with her and adapt to the situation at hand. They realized even just sitting tightly together in the bench seat that David had been completely right about her. She was a practiced socialite with many intriguing skeletons in her closet hiding in the clothes and diction of a well-known groupie. 

In the car, the conversation continued and remained innocent enough as the three of them got to know one another a bit better despite each person deflecting slightly from the full truth. In the lobby, they simply rushed to get up to their floor. In Jimmy’s room, things started to get interesting. The singer had slung an arm over Y/N’s midsection and pulled her down onto his lap as he seated himself at a bedside armchair. The guitarist fixed himself a drink first, then stood before them with his weight resting on his back leg and steering the direction of the conversation with subtle remarks of his own. Y/N easily picked up on any double entendre or what he was truly getting at, earning a praising compliment and squeeze around the waist from an amused Robert. Refreshing to have someone around that saw through the intentional mystique and intricately-constructed sentences. 

“Look, if you’re asking me what I would and wouldn’t do, it’s a lot easier to just ask straightforward. Though I’ll tell you now, there isn’t much in that latter category.” Y/N interrupted the end of Jimmy’s eloquent question, cutting right to the chase. 

“Fine then.” Jimmy replied sternly.

“Aww, he’s just bitter because he might’ve met his match and doesn’t like it.” Robert crooned, tilting his head up so his lips ghosted over her ear to whisper: “I think you’re loads of fun.”

She turned her head to thank him in a half-believing tone. Though he didn’t seem to care much for dialogue anymore, electing to respond with a rewarding, chaste kiss to her lips. She instinctively buried a hand into his hair and tangled it around her fingers as though she somehow knew that particular motion would set him off. His arms pulled her nearer, hands pushing the sides of her jacket off her shoulders. and he hummed in satisfaction. She felt his lips start to part, urging hers to follow them and grant his exploring tongue access. But Y/N didn’t play along, slowly slipping back against his strong grip and magnetism with a grateful smile then turning to her other host expectantly. If she was going to share herself with two people at once, she figured it might as well be fairly even in the distribution of her attention.

Her hand, now freed, outstretched to the onlooking guitarist. Against her intention of drawing him nearer to herself and Robert, he instead pulled her up from her seat to fulfill his own ideas. He kept her right up against him with the circling of his arms at her lower back, slowly letting one hand linger lower to the hem of her dress. A flower-like softness tickled at the conjunction of her neck and jaw then she felt the thorns in the sharpness of his teeth grazing the skin before daring to bite down lightly. Y/N reached up to the back of his head and raked her nails through his hair, tilting her head back with languidly lidded eyes gazing down at him. She made no reaction when the thin, delicate fabric of her dress was being eased higher and higher up her legs then over her lower back. A second set of hands came from behind, tugging the material up over her shoulders and disconnecting her from Jimmy for a moment. Y/N rested between the both of them now – torso and hips drawn against the guitarist’s while her head rested over the bare shoulder of the singer, who eagerly pressed against her backside. 

“This isn’t very fair,” Y/N began just as Jimmy leaned in to continue where he was rudely cut off. “You’re the only one still fully dressed. Let me help you.” 

There was no time for him to make an answer as her hands nimbly worked at the buttons then fisted the loose-fitting material up off his slim frame. She pressed a cherry red lipstick stain onto his pale skin, smiling when she noticed the mark and giving him a questioning look of whether or not he’d let her make more. He didn’t seem to notice as his hands reached around her neck, but she was spurred into action at the grasping of her thigh and ass from the singer behind her. A line of fading red marks reached between his collarbones by the time she’d finished, both her and Robert looking back at the sight from a distance in adoring amusement. 

“A masterpiece, Y/N, truly. Though you know what’s to happen now?” The singer trailed off in a sweetly threatening way.

“That’s right, love,” Jimmy immediately caught on. “We’ll have to return the favor, just without the lipstick.”

She only smiled at their apparent threat, looking between them and giving a careless shrug before hopping out from between them over to the foot of the awaiting bed.

“Do your worst, boys.”

Allowing herself to be easily manipulated about between the two of them, her frame was urged further into the center of the duvet cover and phantom touches lingered along her cool skin as different limbs were shifted one way or another. The singer attached his mouth to the base of her neck then worked his way across the top of her chest – making marks by sucking at her skin then kissing away the soreness before moving on to a new spot. At each of her inner thighs splayed a rough finger-tipped hand, spreading them apart to allow their owner’s mouth access along them. She remained shockingly still with Jimmy’s nipping and harsher bites, as well as the soreness of the bruises Robert created.

As a gesture of praise, Jimmy was gentler making his way back up and pausing at the thin strip of fabric over her hips before hooking a finger beneath it to pull them all the way down her legs after closing them back together. She was pleased, earnestly planting her feet down flat at opposite sides when his hands reached over her thighs again and she used her encouraging grip through Robert’s thick hair to bring him back up towards her face just to slam their lips together. It would heighten the overall sensation of immense bliss and provide a distraction from whimpering or otherwise reacting to the ministrations from his bandmate. But Y/N wasn’t the only one on receiving side: her wandering hand easily found the bursting zipper of the singer’s jeans to release its pressure, slipping beneath the opening to investigate the matter in a more hands-on technique. Jimmy wasn’t suffering either – rather, enjoying his vantage and how she tasted like honey on his tongue. Though he wanted to test out the verité of a few other rumors swirled around about her more tabooed interests that mirrored his own. 

Once he’d brought her right up to the cusp, desperate and begging while momentarily forgetting everything else, he sat up with a haphazard wipe of his chin then informed of his following intentions in his usual riddle-like manner: “I’d like to test you if that’s alright. It shouldn’t hurt too much and if you’re patient, you’ll get quite a reward.”

In terrible need of continued stimulation, she eagerly nodded and accepted whatever he threw at her. A black scarf blindfolded her while a different one was wrapped tightly around her wrists and lifted up to hook into a middle protrusion along the headboard. Robert remained at her side, saying things to her in hopes of stirring up a reaction and letting his hand gently roam over her skin, the main focus of her jolted senses. His lips brushed along her ear when he whispered things to her about how much they looked forward to this, how he imagined reaching into her innermost depths, the things his bandmate surely wanted to try out on her since she was such a willing participant. The muscles in her stomach grew taut and her mouth lolled open, the singer kindly offering his fingers to fill the space as she sucked at them. 

Then came the guitarist’s trick that cleared away the fog of distraction with a sharp fieriness from the snap of a miniature whip at her abdomen. Y/N hummed at the mixed sensation, tilting his hips towards where she thought he might’ve been standing as a plea for more. Instead came an opposing feeling – the burning cold of a fresh ice cube that she jerked away from as it ran along the heated skin of her low stomach then the conjunction of her thighs, and dripped along the curvature of her frame. Another piece of ice was smoothed up over her chest and she swore she could hear a quiet little sadistic chuckle from the perpetrator as she fought the impulse to hiss out a breath through her teeth, now gently biting down on the singer’s fingers and he quickly retracted them. The cube was left to melt at the center of her stomach and she felt a warm, wet enveloping over each of her stiff nipples in turn – evidently Robert as a rougher hand, clearly belonging to Jimmy, rubbed rough circles into her already sensitive folds.

“Sh-Shit, Ro- ah, Ji… fuck…” She breathed out, squirming without abandon as much as she could manage against her restraints and feeling tormented from so much going on, such a big build-up, but still not having been able to let go at any point yet.

“Shh… you did well and I’ll be true to my word.” Jimmy stated neutrally.

The attention at her chest vanished like it had been pulled away, then it returned two-fold only between her legs that her muscles began to spasm almost immediately. Each of her legs had been thrown over the back of either the singer or guitarist as they drank from her like they hadn’t seen water for weeks. Her body was holding back with every ounce of strength she had, not quite wanting it to be over yet with how fucking good it felt. But her entire body was tensed – a signal that she would helplessly crash at any moment and all of her muscles would go lax. As she succumbed to the waves pulsating through her veins, their motions only growing in ferocity to lap up every bit of sweetness that poured from her. 

Her hands had grasped onto the one bit of fabric holding her in place and tugged pointlessly at it, the rest of her body still feeling the effects of her high. For her cooperation, she was rewarded with the removal of the blindfold to see the arrogant, glistening, smirks of her partners of the evening. Y/N’s lungs still heaved for air and left her speechless for the moment. 

“You alright?” Robert flashed his cheeky grin at her affected state.

She nodded confidently.

“Before I forget, you’d better come on the flight home with us.” He suggested.

“Maybe I will. You’ve proven that you’re very well worth my time and I only hope it’s been just enjoyable for you as it has for me. Fuck, you two are probably the best I’ve had.” She confessed.

“How do you feel about candles?” Jimmy interrupted.

Her shining eyes glanced to him, “I’m perfectly alright with a little burning now and then, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, aren’t you just perfect…”


	126. big boss man (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '86-ish Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

based on the quote from Benji LeFevre (thank you @firethatgrewsolow for remembering it) “He’s the type of guy who likes to get on with life. And the babysitter.”

The morning sky was a nearly cloudless wildflower blue reminiscent of a laidback summer day rather than a mid-spring school day, making the young boy I took care of quite restless to go outside rather than prepare for the drive to school. I could hardly blame him for wanting to take advantage of the sunshine and clear skies – I would happily join him out there – but my job was to get him ready and off to school, clean up a bit, then bring him back home. His father was supposed to come in the evening after a short round of work-related travel so I assumed I’d have to leave a bit later to help out with housekeeping-type things since he’d probably be jetlagged. 

I turned my head after cleaning up the kitchen a bit after breakfast preparation, seeing Logan only half-finished with breakfast and instead stacking blueberries on top of each other. The clock was still ticking down, starting to constrain the time we had left to stay home before I’d have to drive him. When I approached him, he turned his head with a bright smile and pointed to the little 3-blueberry-tall structures on his plate.

“Look, Y/N, I made snowmen!” 

I couldn’t help but mirror his smile when hearing his declaration, “I see that and they’re wonderful, but you do need to finish up. We’ve got to go in seven minutes.”

“Can I stay home? I want to play outside.”

“No, silly, you’ve got to go to school and you’ll be able to do that when you come home. Besides, you get to see your friends at school and read all those books you like at the library.” 

He quieted thoughtfully then turned back to his breakfast, apparently considering my point since he finished up while we had two more minutes to spare. I took the plate from his outstretched little hands and placed it in the sink, sending him off to bring his bookbag to the door while I got his light jacket from the closet. The drive over was full of cheery conversation with music playing quietly in the background, my eyes meeting his occasionally through the rearview mirror when he wasn’t looking out of the window. Slowly the car rolled to a stop by the front entrance of the school and he waved bye to me as he gleefully joined his schoolmates in the building. I returned the wave then turned out of the drop-off area, shaking my head at how unbelievably precious that kid was. 

After parking my car back in the driveway and finding my little case of books or other busywork I kept myself occupied with until Logan’s school ended, I came to the door being strangely unlocked. It might’ve been an accident on my part but it was almost an instinct for me to turn and lock the door right when we left the house. Upon seeing the stack of luggage by the coat closet door, I realized that I had indeed locked the door, someone just returned home much earlier than expected. I left my little case by the door and slipped off my shoes, padding down the hall cautiously to seek out the long-awaited traveler. Predictably, he stood leaning up against the counter beside the not-quite-done-yet coffee machine and his eyes scanned over some set of papers. I cleared my throat as I came up to the threshold of the kitchen entrance and smiled in greeting, his eyes lingering slowly from the paperwork before he returned the gesture with a sleepy laugh.

“Welcome back home.” I began.

“Thanks, glad to be back, however early they changed my flight to.”

“I noticed you came back early and I’m sure Logan will be pleasantly surprised when I get him from school. Would you like to come along?”

He pursed his lips in consideration for a moment, “Might have a better effect if he spots me here… as long as you can keep it from him on the ride home.”

“Sure.” I nodded, noting the apprehension in his voice that usually came when discussing matters of personal appearances and safety or security. 

“Thank you for taking care of everything the whole time I was gone. It’s not the easiest job and you’ve done a wonderful job. You know, I think he might like you more than me.”

“I can assure you that isn’t true – not a day went by where he didn’t talk about you and stories of your times together here or elsewhere. And he was absolutely overjoyed whenever you called home.”

“It’s hard to be away. Good to come home to him whenever he stays here rather than his mother’s place. It’s too quiet when he’s gone. And of course, you’re always here with him.”

“I wouldn’t consider myself ridiculously talkative, or noisy for that matter.”

He sipped at the fresh coffee and seemed to liven a bit more, “You aren’t. Just… a noticeable sort of presence that feels comfortable and not overwhelming at all.”

“Thanks??”

“Sorry, that was meant as a compliment. My debonair, smooth-talking persona fell asleep on the plane and has yet to wake up.” 

“That might be a good thing.” I said under my breath.

He cocked his head to the side in curiosity, “And why would that be?”

Oh no. I couldn’t think of a way to explain myself out of this one with some kind of rational reason for why the hell I said that. Initially when I accepted the job nearly a year ago to watch over Logan while Robert had to leave for business, if the boy wasn’t staying with his mother, I thought it was a very generous deal and he was certainly handsome but strictly off-limits. I expected the stupid little impression I had of him to fade away after a while and yet I couldn’t really get him out of my head nor stop myself from flushing or fumbling my words at his powerful charm. It was part of his nature, sure, but I couldn’t help but indulge myself and think it was something more. My teeth had started nibbling at my lower lip as my off-guard mind scrambled to find a way to talk my way out of this. 

“Well, maybe it’s an evident signal that you’re quite tired and should probably rest up until the jetlag wears off…”

“Hmm,” He nodded, looking down slightly before his eyes met mine again and his crooked grin widened. “I’d buy it if it wasn’t for that prolonged pause you had while formulating that bullshit in your head and the way you’re finding it hard to look at me right now.”

I figured silence was my best option at the accusation. Until I realized that it meant he had all the ability to continue correctly figuring out exactly what I meant. 

“Nothing to be shy about, darlin’. If you need some convincing before coming clean, I’ll be honest and admit that I thought of you as more than just someone working for me and the idea crossed my mind more than a few times.” 

The words seemed to disappear from my brain. I just stared, dumbfounded and doe-eyed, hoping he would break the silence again or do something so there was no doubt of what he meant by saying such things. Robert seemed to find amusement in my reaction and placed his cup of coffee down before addressing me again. 

“Well? Need more convincing?” 

I shook my head, thinking I’d melt into a puddle or follow a very bad impulse if he kept talking that way. 

“Will you tell the truth then?” He grinned, prodding at me like a parent trying to pry the truth from a child.

I took a deep breath and figured the ship had already sailed from port so there couldn’t be much harm from opening up a little: “I meant that it may be for the best… for my- well, for posterity? I don’t know, it’s just unprofessional I guess.” 

“There’s no contract between us, just a casual agreement and no one else involved or able to say anything about it from that standpoint. Nothing to be guilty about.”

“You’re right.” I nodded in slow realization. “I hadn’t really thought of it that way since it still is an employer-employee kind of relationship.”

“I can fire you but I’d rather not search for anyone else to take up your job, and it would keep things discreet.” Robert argued.

I nodded in understanding then my eyes found his again, wanting to break the silence but not sure how to respond now that both of our points were made: “So…”

“How much longer until you go back to the school?”

My eyes flickered over to the clock, “Six hours.”

“Well, that’s ample time to get to know one another on a less professional level, don’t you think?” He offered with a wink.

I let myself jump off that cliff, breaking free of my conscience’s hold on me that said this was wrong.

“It certainly is, and I promise to be completely honest now.” 

Leisurely, like he was trying to pace himself, Robert stepped nearer to me until he stood two steps away and had his hand reached out gently to the side of my face. I took the opportunity to study the calming, though mischievous, blue of his eyes as they gazed over me in an unfamiliar way – neither carelessly nor solely lustfully. I could feel my heartbeat thrumming throughout my whole body, like it was threatening to burst or make itself obvious to him just by touching my skin. Partially as a distraction and out of self-indulgence, my hands tentatively pressed themselves over his strong, broad chest. It felt stabilizing amidst my apparent lack of control, especially as my head began spinning when his lips crashed against mine out of nowhere. The large hand he placed at the back of my head gently pushed me further in towards him and I found mine slipping higher, up to his shoulders to hold on better then feel over his upper arms. The guilt of doing something that felt wrong was feeding into some twisted form of pleasure, so anything I did to further our progression along gave that twinge of unpleasantness before dissolving into a prideful drive onward. 

Some force seemed to pull me back – the last bit of built-up guilt making itself known. I stared down at the floor, thinking about how I wanted more, how good it felt when it had barely been a minute, and yet I really shouldn’t have let it happen. Then I remembered his argument, which pushed me to err more towards my impulsivity. The feeling of his curled finger under my chin and lifting it drew me back to the present, looking into his concerned expression.

“What’s wrong? Still feeling a bit of guilt?”

“Just a little, but I think it’s fading…” I smiled reassuringly, proving my stance by raking my hands through his cropped curls and using their placement to pull us back together.

He let me take the lead and continue to really prove my desire, or lack of anything holding me back. I felt like I was being lifted up, light as air, right up against him, and trying to invoke each one of his senses. And the no-longer-weary traveler easily detected it, feeling spurred to react to my ardor. His hands roamed from their more innocent position at the back of my head, grazing along the lines of my back, then resting themselves with a kneading grasp at the curve of my backside. I yelped against his mouth and received a cavalier snicker in return. Despite my eyes being closed, I could envision his arrogant little dimpled grin and hear his voice teasing me about being so easily responsive. 

Then it ended far too soon with a parting peck to my cheek and caress of his hand. Though the glimmer in his gaze told me that it was only the beginning with much more, much better to come. His hands lingered up and around to clutch onto mine then use the connection to pull me along with him: down the hall, up the stairs, turn left, and through the door. Just as it was shut behind me, my back was pressed against it with an immovable Robert keeping me in place – his arms at each side of my head and his body blocking any exit forward, not that I wanted to escape. In the solely sunlit room, I kept my gaze firm on his eyes in hopes that they would reveal something of his thoughts to me. 

“You know, I think I ought to take this opportunity to properly thank you for being so good for me and show my gratitude.” He hinted.

“I’m in no position to object – I’m wondering what you have in mind for your ‘gratitude’.”

My playful response pleased him and he leaned forward to plant a slow, drawn-out kiss onto my lips then torturously pull away. His hands slid down the length of the door until they were alongside my midsection, reaching in towards my frame and beckoning me along further into the room until I was spun around to sit at the foot of the bed. I felt his hands pressed to the side of my face adoringly, then slipped them down onto my shoulders and urged me to lie back. My body was lifted to the center, now allowing his touch to more easily linger along my thighs and hook onto the waist of my jeans to tug them off my legs. Gooseflesh appeared along them, but my veins were filled with anticipating heat at my impatience and desire combined with the look on his face – like an eager person opening a very naughty gift. His tongue darted along his upper lip when his hands worked to complete the task and he stood back to admire what lay before him.

“You are simply divine, honey.” Robert complimented, then his brows raised with a wicked grin. “Speaking of honey…”

The gossamer graze of his fingers played over the curve of my thighs until they reached the top, and began to meander inwards down to the slim part between them. They crawled further and pried by the inner side of my knees, sparking adrenaline to race up to my pounding heart. A mischievous blue-eyed gaze flickered up to catch my attention just before the soft mattress dipped along the lower length of my legs and his hands lingered back up with fingers daringly beginning to press towards my most sensitive nerves. My head was starting to feel light, like this might be a dream or hallucination, but every little touch tickling along my legs was impossible to doubt – especially the higher they went. Robert’s happily smirking face grew slightly more serious as he propped himself just at my mid-thigh and his tongue darting out in preparation. 

A kiss was planted at my navel, the first stepping stone of a path that continued to go lower and lower with each step. I sighed, letting off some of the nerves so they dissolved into a relishing of this feeling and a steadiness to allow Robert’s proceedings to continue smoothly. The final, slightly prolonged, kiss was placed at the little pearl protruding from the start of my opening. It was the transition point from the innocent nature of his lips to the lascivious nature of his expert tongue painting a long stripe from where my frame lied against the sheets to that same pearl. My breath was held in my lungs and I stared at him in a blissfully paralyzed reaction. I was struggling not to squeeze in my thighs or clutch onto something for a shred of control, too shocked and controlled by impulsive responses to relax into it. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, raising his head to look me in the eyes better with a wet sheen over his chin. “Darlin’, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“And I don’t think I’d mind.” I replied to myself, feeling a wave of arousal rush through and pool in my stomach solely from his words combined with the look on his face.


	127. impatience (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: very nsfw, like no plot here at all

request: "Hii! Are u receiving requests? If you don’t, pls ignore… But could you please a silver fox Jimmy NSFW (BDSM, thigh riding, real dirty talk) and the end very soft, fluff!! I love your work! 💗💗✌🏼" from @/loveshinyprincessstudentblr-blog

Exasperated, I sat on the office chair at the opposite side of the desk with my chin propped up on my hand for the past half-hour. Every ten minutes, Jimmy would clear his throat, glance over towards me with an apologetic frown, and promise he was almost done. Then he’d go back to flipping through a stack of paperwork in a leather-encased folder and typing away at a laptop keyboard. He skipped lunch and now it was well past seven as another fifteen minutes passed. I groaned, falling down over my crossed arms that lied along the desktop in hopes that maybe my louder protestations would garner his attention properly this time. But his disinterested, stoic, green gaze told me he wasn’t going to be swayed my way. 

“I told you, I was nearly finished and this is the last paper in the file. You’re very impatient today, Y/N.” He scolded.

“Well it’s getting late, surely you can take a break and pay attention to something else for a little bit then get back into it.” I suggested.

“Pay attention to something else? Don’t think I don’t know what, or rather who, you’re referring to.”

His eyes were back on the screen and he typed a couple words.

“Is that so bad? And you really can’t spare a single minute?” 

The keyboard clacked under his fingers again but he didn’t answer me. I huffed in frustration, lying back over my arms, and staring up at him… continuing my bored waiting until he finally finished. He clicked his tongue in indignation and sat back with an equally annoyed expression on his face but I could catch a hint of something else in his irises – now he was playing a character against me. 

“Well, if you honestly can’t wait another minute when I was truly on the last section of my work, then get over here and entertain yourself while I wrap everything up.” 

I sat up, my eyes wide in initial surprise but more than happy by his compromised offer. His seated stance widened and he kept the chair a little distance back from the edge of the desk, still typing away or rifling through the documents. Thinking this was some kind of payback for my nagging, I cautiously stood up and went to his side but waited his direction. Jimmy didn’t even take his eyes off his work but reached an arm out to me, pulling me onto his outwards-angled leg when I took his hand. I leaned my head against his shoulder and mindlessly gazed over all of the jargon spread over the desk until his arm forcefully began spurring me into movement with its position at the curve of my back. His silent message was read loud and clear in my mind. 

Jimmy kept his one arm loosely draped along my back while the other typed slowly and he looked down to the last paragraph of the last document in the file. My arms looped around his neck as a basis of support as my hips started to roll in a slow rhythm and I sighed in slight relief against his neck. I could feel his whole body stiffen like he was doing his best to remain controlled and not lose his calm demeanor while he tried to finish the last task. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I was letting go more and more with every rock of my hips over his thigh. Only when his arm began guiding me again did I realize he completed his work and had shut the file folder, turning his focused gaze onto my flushed, breathless face. A hint of a grin teased at the edges of his lips just before they pressed to my forehead as a gesture of praise.

“Now that I’m done, my impatient girl, I can deal with you properly.”

I paused and gazed up at him, “As happy as I am to hear that, aren’t you hungry for dinner? It’s been a while…”

“Certainly, though I think I’ll take you up in my room.” He replied smoothly, urging me off his lap and pulling me along by the hand. 

My pulse went even more rampant with every step up the staircase and my nerves were awash, anticipation striking like little lightning bolts through my veins. A shiver ran down my spine as we passed through the doorway. With just a brief tug on the hand, I collided with a stern-faced Jimmy and caught onto his motion of getting my full attention. He kept his expression blank while his eyes shifted occasionally – there was evidently something going on in his mind – purposely adding suspense and a sense of mystery as to what would happen next as he stood before me, neither of our gazes quite breaking from the other’s. But there was a calm and a trust in that hypnotic jade green.

He then broke the silence: “Why don’t you sit down, darling.”

I followed the suggestion with my impatience bubbling up again and questions of his intentions in my mind, knowing that there was clearly a plan concocted in his. His hands rested heavy on my shoulders, coaxing me to lie back before they slipped down along my torso to the waistband of my pants. My mind jumped to the conclusion that his hands would tug away the material only to fall to the disappointment of his teasing habit. Instead, he leaned down over me for a tamer continuation: one hand lingering up to my ribs, soft pink lips grazing along my cheek down to my fallen-open mouth, sweetly dirty words whispered against my skin, and then finally a light tug at the material over my hips. The softer, subtler waves in my stomach sharply shot through the rest of my body when I felt the cooler air over my newly-exposed skin as he finally did what I’d been waiting for him to do. 

“Shall I check on you, Y/N?” He offered softly against my ear.

“Please.” I whispered back, desperation threatening to taint my voice if I dared to say more than one syllable.

The hand that remained beneath the hem of my shirt slipped along the curve of my hip and inwards over my thigh. Jimmy was giving me what I wanted but only with a touch of torment, like drowning in pleasure without taking ages to ease into it. My lungs filled with an ecstatic breath that remained locked in there at the abrupt touch of well-experienced fingertips which slithered between my thighs. As my lips parted wider, trying to breathe through the stunned state of my senses only to have them captured by his and all I could do was clutch onto his arms then permit his other hand to shift my legs further apart. Every muscle in my body seemed to turn rigid yet relaxed enough to ensure he could continue, wanting nothing more than him to continue until I couldn’t hold onto their tension any longer and my energy was drained. 

“You’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.” He remarked with a sinister, emotionless tone like he was simply stating a fact. 

“You didn’t need to.” 

He cleared his throat, momentarily distracted by my mirrored seduction towards him, then back in his stoic character with a pressing matter on his mind and against my leg.

“Neither do you, my love. Though it’s more enjoyable when you do.” 

“Is that a hint, or suggestion?” I smiled, pecking his cheek and glancing down to deliver my exact message.

“Not at all, don’t you remember why I got you up here?” Jimmy replied coyly, head tilted to the side. 

My heart raced in my chest, seeing him dive lower to where his hand had rested and that vivid green gaze peeking up at me with a clever amusement from his position below my hips. I swear I saw him vulgarly swipe his tongue over his lip before leaning in, his tongue then lapping up the wetness he caused like it was nectar. I grasped the cool silken covers as though they would provide me with some relief from the all-too-perfect onslaught below. I was holding back a scream, holding back my leg muscles from tensing around him, holding back from just collapsing limply into his touch. Jimmy seemed to know and exploit that feeling: flicking, sucking, massaging, lashing just the way he knew drove me irresistibly mad. Whimpers buzzed behind my shut lips until I finally broke, carelessly letting them loose without abandon. His name was mixed with faint curses while my head fell back against the bed, my hands roaming to find the back of his head and curling my fingers through his unruly hair. 

He hummed in content and pulled away momentarily to warn me: “Keep that up and you won’t get a wink of sleep for the rest of the night.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, my love.” I grinned, combing a hand through his hair for encouragement. 

He returned the sly smile with twinkling eyes and kept his gaze on my face as his mouth reached my core again, starting with one long, lascivious lap all the way up. My shocked nerves were dissolving away into an impassioned heat, a dark crimson flame slowly dancing in my abdomen. The passive reaction I had before was replaced with fuel to his motions, actively encouraging Jimmy to lose his infamous restraint the way he did whenever he fell entirely under the spell of something he enjoyed doing. I could feel it start to slip away as his movements grew less and less constrained, my own control loosening as he brought me closer to the edge. My throat was already beginning to feel raw from crying out, as a helpless yet grateful response at his ministrations and also to spur him on further. 

“Baby…” He crooned. “You’re just pouring right into my mouth.”

I replied with a low whine and grasp to the roots of his hair.

“…And you’re almost there.” He noticed. “Let go for me, Y/N.” 

His motivation only sent me teetering further away from holding onto any sense of control, feeling nothing but the blankness that came with the warm wave of an orgasm. When the initial sensations subsided, I felt all my tensed muscles now looser but still shaking in jolted spasms. My voice fell heavy with each exhale, emitting a low groan while my breaths and pulse recovered to a somewhat steady beat. An arrogant and pleased Jimmy observed, shifting back over me to remove the remaining layers of fabric over my torso. The room’s air didn’t bring gooseflesh to my skin with how heated I was feeling, instead I was emboldened to sit up and pull him over to my side. Striking while he was still surprised, my hands brushed over his dark, sophisticated clothes and slipped beneath just to mess with him for a moment before unfastening their restraints. 

“Eager.” He noted.

“I’ve been waiting for houuurrrrrsss…” I exaggerated, looking right into his eyes, and swiftly pushing down the loosened, unzipped, unbuttoned, unbuckled, unbelted, pants.

“Fucking hell, woman. Very eager.”

He shifted around to let me have my way, not caring to try stopping me nor really wanting to when he could predict exactly what it entailed and just reclining back under my will. But, as he said, my patience was nonexistent and I was evidently eager without having to say a word. My hands lied over his thighs as I leaned down to lick a stripe up the backside of his cock with the very tip of my tongue. He gave me a sharp look, though weakened from his usual ice-cold glance and far less effective in its power. Deceptively, I backed off for a moment. Only to adjust my positioning, slinging one of my legs over his hips and earning a pathetic groan of exasperation from the usually-collected man beneath me. The rough touch of his fingertips swept along the sides of my hips, starting to imprint along the flesh as his watchful eyes observed my descent onto him and into the madness of finally attaining something I’d been waiting for. 

My upper body instinctually arched back, my head tilting away as far as I could while still looking at his mesmerizing eyes that stared at me with pleading hunger. I didn’t need to look when my hands found the buttons running down the center of his shirt, carelessly unfastening them until I could lean all the way forward and feel nothing but his skin against mine. With every thick, sultry breath came a slowed roll of my hips over his and I couldn’t be bothered to hold anything back – the deep pleasure tingling every single one of my senses was too great to mask. The abrupt, reciprocal thrust up into me signaled that he had enough; I at least got relief earlier whereas he only got tormented by my petulant demands and his constant desire to keep everything under his control. 

“Harder.” Jimmy gruffly demanded through constrained breaths. 

There was no other way in both of our minds, just fighting for that earth-shattering satisfaction that would inevitably wash over us when we made it. I followed his simple command while he ensured to brush his hand expertly over my clit and match my pace, his tip purposely prodding right at the one spot that made my leg muscles turn to water. I was gushing down my thighs and over him with a silent scream pushing through my lungs. His hands shifted to the curve of my backside, grasping hard enough to leave marks when he finally felt relief and all the tension was released into me. The hushed cry of my name from his mouth against my ear stirred my heart and I fell limp over him. 

“That was worth waiting for, yeah?” He quipped, receiving a wisped laugh from me.

Our breaths began to steady, a sleepy droop to our eyelids as we looked to each other with easy smiles and I lied down at his side. My hand reached to run through the little curls of his hair while I relaxed to the gentle run of his fingertips up and down my bare back. I nestled my head against his shoulder and leaned to keep my lips pressed to the warm skin at the curve of his neck, feeling both of us ease into a slow heartbeat rhythm together. Jimmy’s hand rested at the small of my back, pulling me in closer as we fell asleep in a warmth-radiating embrace.


	128. had enough (john paul jones x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '95 John Paul Jones x fem!reader, appearances by Robert & Jimmy of course  
> Warnings: nsfw
> 
> took a little while to finish this one with work & all but in (belated) birthday celebrations, here's a piece of my own self-indulgence

There was a palpable tension in the preparatory behind-the-studio-stage rooms and through the halls as the guests of honor were moved towards their seats in the audience at the hushed announcement, whispered briskly from ear to ear between sharply-dressed people. 

“John’s here.” 

But an air of normalcy hid everything away as everyone was seated and cameras came on. Announcers took center stage with pre-written, pun-filled speeches. Performances were put on, friendships were played up, and staged joviality was projected – all for the sake of the cameras. It brought back the past, good and bad, despite all the efforts to remain positive. Coming back together had clearly been a gradual process that was welcomed and offered variably between the three of them – the duet of Page and Plant feeling more natural than to pursue the full trio again. Old professional friends just left things alone, knowing better than to pry into their work and push them in one direction or another. 

Having all three of them in the room was like picking at a scab, a finicky thing that could result to either a light twinge of discomfort or an irreversible gush that would need even more time to heal. The worst part was how unpredictable this evening could become, how much there was left unsaid over the past fifteen years or so that could come to a confrontation tonight. Jimmy was good at masking it, his stoic façade a famed element of his mystique and a skill that he’d mastered by now. Robert, on the other hand, had hints of displeasure or resentment over his features if someone hit a nerve and the already-touchy mood was only making it more evident. An old Swan Song friend leaned over the row to his ear after taking note of the singer’s restless energy. 

“Did you meet his plus-one?” 

The singer turned his head slightly, just enough not to be noticed and to still pay attention to the onstage cues for when he had to get up or give a reaction. He gave him a shake of his head in reply. 

“Shit, you’ve gotta get up… but I’m telling you, you and Jimmy have got to meet her. Ol’ Jonesy’s like fuckin’ Roger Rabbit next to her.” 

The amusing distraction put a genuinely amused, signature lopsided grin on his face as he stood up from his seat. He gave a look to his friend while waiting for Jimmy to shuffle through the row of seats up to him, both of them headed backstage together and ushered around into their position behind the curtain. They awaited their final cue to step out by joking around quietly like a pair of schoolboys and occasionally looking out at the dolled-up audience. Funny how fate played out from some of their old friends who sat half-asleep in the crowd. One in particular who swore never to settle down now lulling a toddler in one arm and looking to their partner for help with the slightly older child bouncing in the adjacent seat. Another stuck out like a sore thumb with their… altered… appearance and flashy clothing. But then their attention shifted to the unfamiliar face, one that was sophisticated and refined, seated opposite to where they’d been in the theatre. 

Then came their final cue. Reminiscent of a particular show, likely in Paris, they headed out together with the bassist slipping in at their heels without a single second to spare. A just-barely-unified trio stepping up to the microphone to accept the honors that the entire evening had been put on for. Now came their speeches, scripted by no one but themselves and far less predictable aside from “thank you”. 

The first two were brief, unsurprising, but nice messages of gratitude and the usual veiled allusions to inner jokes or long stories. It was an honor to be recognized. Love and more thanks towards anyone who contributed to their work or supported them throughout the years. A raise of the metal award statuette or nod of acknowledgement to the audience, a cheer, and onto the next. John kept the theme of brevity and gratitude as he came up to the podium. It was just his ending that veered off the cordial tone. 

“…And thank you to my friends, for finally remembering my phone number.” He concluded, stepping away with an immediate reaction from the audience. 

Their walk back was silent aside from the announcer’s last remarks and the audience applause. With so many other people milling around the twisting halls of the studio stage, they had to stay collected. John led the way, being the last to show and the first to leave. He only halted in his swift pace at the threshold of the hall just outside the theatre doors where guests began to exit and turn their attention towards the three men of the hour. Jimmy was undoubtedly ticked off about the speech, as was Robert, but they had to give John credit for being so cunning. They still managed to underestimate him, though, as he knew what was coming if they were given a moment to approach and confront him about it. 

The guitarist was the first to open his mouth: “John- ” 

He turned around at the beckoning, his smile and raised brows radiating with clueless innocence.   
Just when the harsh reprimand was about to be spoken, the mysterious guest approached them and positioned herself right at the bassist’s side – effectively silencing any displeased remarks. The dots connected in Robert’s mind with how close she stood to him, the interlocking of their arms, and the look in their eyes at each other. Fucking Roger Rabbit indeed. Granted, John wasn’t that drastically silly of a contrast against her but maybe there was an aspect of overlooking him from having known him on such a personal level after years of touring together. She knew how to stand out and do it with incomparable grace. The perfectly-tailored suit ensemble over her frame reflected the confidence she stood tall with and the barely-there touches of makeup of simple pearl jewelry made her appear almost regal. A loose silken scarf draped over the smooth fabric of her off-white blouse. 

Her hand reached out and she spoke with the utmost eloquence, a shade of sultriness in her tone like a whisper of cigarette smoke swirling from between her velvet lips: “It’s wonderful to finally meet you both and on such a significant evening for you, it’s such an accomplishment that you’re so deserving of. I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N… lovely name.” Jimmy commented with a half-genuine smile as he took her hand genteelly up to his lips. “I’m afraid John’s kept you from us.” 

Robert jumped in right after: “Yes he has, though I can’t blame him.” 

Y/N looked at him with unexpected surprise at the supplementary wink he ended his remark with but kept her slight grin and her head poised upwards. Her eyes spoke silently with a shift of attention to John’s and they seemed to share a brief, nonverbal conversation. His arm shifted to cradle the curve of her back and daringly rested just a shade lower at their shared amusement. The two former bandmates were taken slightly aback, having seen hints of this trait from him before but not so openly and self-assuredly. Undoubtedly, they made quite a pair – notable enough to distract momentarily from the dramatic affair of minutes prior. 

John cut through the silence with wide eyes, amazed recognition all over his expression and he turned to Y/N, “You’ll have to excuse me, my love, I think I need to make a round over to an old friend. Unless you’d like to join me?” 

“Please, don’t let me keep you here and I think a bit more introduction is needed with these old friends.” 

She gestured imperceptibly towards their current company. 

He gave her a parting kiss on the lips then one on the back of her hand, now Y/N turned back around. 

“Well, normally, I’d ask what it is you do but that seems unnecessary given the circumstances.” Y/N began. 

“Perhaps we should be asking you that question.” Jimmy hinted. 

“Well, I studied loads of things. I think my university was so upset when I finally decided to leave that they offered me a job immediately in whatever field I liked.” 

“Impressive, though I can’t say I’m surprised Jonesy made friends with a bookworm. Just that she happens to be so charming and beautiful.” 

She gave an incredulous look to the singer for his statement and looked for an explanation to the guitarist at his side. Not easily impressed by simple compliments of regaled people, Y/N was proving to be a perplexing challenge to win over. At least in comparison to the strangers they usually encountered. A different strategy would have to be used in that pursuit, more tactful and teasing rather than the straightforward method they began with. John gained credit there again with how suitable his character was to Y/N’s, at least by how they’d observed her in these few minutes. She was certainly intelligent and unashamedly made her impressions evident on her lovely face, yet still very charismatic with her quick-witted diction. 

“Don’t mind him, he loses his manners when he’s surprised at something and I’m afraid your John’s done the trick with his speech.” Jimmy reminded. 

Finally, the initial shock of meeting Y/N wore off and instead the speech returned to the forefront of their minds. An enigmatic but encouraging smile hinted at the edges of her lips as she waited for either of them to elaborate. It hadn’t been her plan at all and she only knew that he had a trick up his sleeve for the evening. Though, if she had known, Y/N wouldn’t have discouraged him at all for it and probably use the excuse of rewarding his cleverness to coax him off the piano bench then down the hallway behind a set of closed double-doors. That result wasn’t off the table for when they finally arrived in their room for the evening. But for the moment, she was on damage control duty with his old bandmates. 

The lull in the conversation made the two of them continue elaborating, trying to coax some sort of explanation and maybe even remorse from Y/N: 

“Did you know about it?” 

“Did he plan that?” 

“It’s not entirely unreasonable, but on camera?” 

“We didn’t mean to offend him at all, why did he say it here?” 

“Did you try to dissuade him from it?” 

The cool, standoffish expression and cutting eyes that replaced her more welcoming light smile reflected her changed demeanor. Having run out of ways to ask the same question, Jimmy and Robert quieted. Y/N wasn’t his keeper but surely, she wouldn’t have allowed it to happen so publicly? Her crossly pouted lips parted as she sighed and slowly began formulating a response. 

“I’m not the person you should question on the matter. If you want all of the answers for yourselves, go see John and talk to him.” She stated firmly, pausing to let her former tone and expression return. “Listen, I don’t see any point in constant retribution over everything that’s happened through the years between you three nor to spoil a first impression between us.” 

Her hand fluidly reached out to swipe a flute of champagne from the serving platter being carried through the crowd of guests by uniformed servers, taking a sip and looking to their silently contemplative faces. 

“If you’re still absolutely set on discussing this, you’re more than welcome to join us tomorrow for dinner. It’ll be discreet, of course.” She offered. 

“I think that would be best.” The guitarist answered in a steely voice. 

“I’ll call your rooms tomorrow morning with details. Again, very glad to have met you too despite this little spat with John.” 

Her stained velvet lips curled into a smile again as she raised her glass in acknowledgement to them, stepping away and turning to join the bassist’s side again. Even her walk was poised – steady steps as though she were keeping up to the beat of a song on a catwalk, elegant posture with her head just barely tilted upwards, light swings of her hips that seemed to do more than just accentuate the perfect fit of her tailored clothes. Y/N leaned in towards John when she rejoined him, her head tilted to his side conveniently to plant a chaste kiss to his cheek in greeting and mumble a comment right into his ear. A shiny black leather coat went over her shoulders as they made their goodbyes to his old friends and turned to leave the venue. She certainly knew how to positively garner attention and make a strikingly good first impression. 

Whisking away the upbeat bassist at the crook of her arm, Y/N led the way over to the black SUV waiting to take them back to the hotel and seated herself right beside him. Her hand imperceptibly unzipped the fly of his trousers and slipped through the new opening as if it were a pocket. The light palming or massaging movements began as the car started to roll out through the streets, awakening a different kind of energy within him while never giving enough to provide any sense of relief from her touch. Her expression was a stoic façade and her eyes never met his, putting on an air of disinterest. As the car rolled to a stop, her hand slipped away as subtly as it had arrived and she shifted towards the car door. John huffed quietly, making Y/N bite back a tiny victorious smile, in the process of hastily readjusting himself before following her lead. 

Their walk through the grandeur of the lobby was comparatively dull – the fashionable style mimicked in several other hotels and too strong of a distraction taking priority in their minds. The elevator ride up was a minute-long purgatory, eventually leading the impatient couple to ascent. A welcoming view of their very private room greeted them and they let out short breaths of relief, taking a moment to admire the pretty view of twinkling city lights outside. Then, Y/N struck. In an almost violent determination, she moved to fulfil her mission of the complete eradication of his layers of clothing by any means possible, and urgently, while John was backed against the wall. The bite he displayed so assuredly onstage and craftiness in dealing with his dear old friends had ignited her mood; she was only acting upon it in a way that he would find rewarding. 

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” He questioned breathily. 

Her fingers combed through his hair while the other hand skillfully unfastened the line of buttons going down his shirt and she momentarily glanced to his flushed face, “I like when you step up and reaffirm yourself like that, smoothly but with a bit of a cut to it.” 

“What did they say to you about it?” 

“Only asked me stupid questions that you boys will sort through tomorrow evening. But for now… I think you can relish in the victory.” 

He gave her an approving smile and the previously-unwrinkled fabric over his shoulders now fell to the polished stone floor. Her leather jacket and tailored blazer followed suit. She stepped away, taking his hand and guiding them to a more fitting part of their suite while tugging the silky scarf off her neck like she was creating a trail of lost clothing to find their way back to the entrance. John’s brilliant perception made itself known again upon the opening of the double-doors to the sight of several lit tea candles lining every (sturdy) flat surface of the room and bountiful bouquets of richly-hued crimson flowers created a perimeter along the walls. It looked as exquisite as the cool silk bedding felt across their heated, bare skin. They already looked perfectly disheveled when Y/N regained the resolute ferocity of her command, straddling his lap while her lips left faint marks along his neck and painted a spotted line down his chest. He propped himself up on his elbows in preparation to watch her every movement. 

“Don’t you dare tease.” John warned, thinking back to the damned car ride over. 

“I don’t think I had the patience for it if I wanted to.” She remarked, forming a gentle fist around his shaft and enveloping him with her mouth. 

Her pace was languid, not rushed, as her head bobbed lower then drew back and soothed the backside of his length with the flat run of her tongue. With her free hand, she pressed fingertips along his hip for balance and allowed the other hand to add a light pressure a bit lower between his thighs, all with her eyes focused solely on the pleased look on his face. John reached his palm across the curve at the back of her head – a gesture of praise and encouragement for her to keep going but not asking for more intensity with the perfect treatment she was giving him then. A laborious breath pushed through his swollen lips at the harder grasp of her hand and the teasing flick of her tongue all the way up his length then around the ridge of its tip. 

“Stop that or you’ll have a mess on your hands, darling.” He warned through almost gritted teeth. 

The remark made her grin triumphantly but she leaned forward to slow things down for him, kissing him delicately and brushing a hand up along the curve of his shoulder. He relaxed into her touch immediately and all his tension dissolved away, hailing in the return of the dull burn as ephemeral as clouds of smoke within him. Burning tickles and grazes of each other’s hands explored familiar territory, earning hushed whimpers or moans when they brushed along those erogenous zones committed to their muscle memories. But the relaxed tempo of things didn’t last long with the shift of her hips back over his, sinking down all the way at the same torturous pace but initiating a very different rush to spark through both of them. 

………………… 

Arrangements were made as mentioned: a discreet, room service dinner of lavish dishes with fresh white roses lining the center of the table up in Y/N and John’s top-floor penthouse suite. A small brassy chandelier warmly illuminated the dark wood-furnished dining area and a glimmering silver skyline of the city outside could be seen through the glass wall behind the benched seat. Each dished was styled like an art piece, for visual delight as well as flavor that wafted up into the air in faint puffs of steam. John welcomed in the two of his friends once they arrived together at the door, their faces not entirely taken aback from the setup since their rooms were similarly styled and they wanted to remain steadfast in the gravity of their discussion, cutting away the fluff of unnecessary niceties. 

The guests seated themselves beside each other in the separate chairs opposite the bench where John placed himself. A look passed between them all before Robert inquired for Y/N’s whereabouts, assuming that she was joining them since she arranged for it. 

“She’s been called off to some administrative concern but should be done in a few minutes.” He replied nonchalantly, beginning to fill his plate with neat little hors d’oeuvres to go with his aperitif and the other two hesitantly following suit. 

“So, the speech.” Jimmy cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his seat and only founding himself interrupted yet again with Y/N’s arrival. 

Her presence seemed to command a certain etiquette, not because she was clueless or wouldn’t be able to handle it but, because she understood very well what was going on and made clear that she handled things directly. It felt like a business meeting where a contract was to be drawn up, just smaller and more luxurious than a typical conference room. She slid in beside John with a welcoming smile to their guests. Despite her appearance being more casual than the previous evening, Y/N still had the air of sophistication in how she carried herself and the cleanly-pressed, white button-up shirt that fell loosely just above her knees. She unbuckled the little gold watch around her wrist, placing it beside her cutlery, and turned to address the guests. Even through the simple shake of her hand and placement of it over their shoulders across the table, a light scent of bergamot lingered with a muskier cologne from her. Last, she turned to John to comb the longer strands of his soft hair back slightly and lean in for a quick peck. 

With the only-slightly-biased mediator finally present, the conversation began. Sentences were spoken in grammatically incorrect fragments – starting in one way, pausing, then carrying on with an altered continuation of their original phrase – but meaning was not lost between the trio that was used to receiving and sending nonverbal communications with each other. Words left unsaid from the past were being vocalized and dealt with, the end result they strove for being friendly relations on all sides. Y/N merely observed between forkfuls of dinner and glances down at the leatherbound agenda in her hands; the conversation seemed to be successful. 

There was a realization that was setting in, of change and of growth that happened in the passage of time spent apart. Unfamiliarity that hadn’t been there before was now outlined and the terseness in tone grew into banter as they got back into the swing of each other. John wasn’t made to apologize for his remark but instead received praise from the other two for coming up with it and making it something too clever to live down. Only here did Y/N pipe up from behind her pen and paper about him coming up with it from the wings of the stage rather than plotting it out, earning him claps on the back for his quickness. Youthful glimmers radiated in their eyes and unfading smiles as they shifted off-topic to recounting other stories from their time together or catching up on the time apart. They concluded hours later, proclaiming gratitude and wonder towards the newfound Y/N who somehow remedied the tension of several years in one evening.


	129. coincidence (jimmy page & david coverdale x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '92-ish Jimmy Page & David Coverdale x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw 
> 
> this is so self-indulgent, please forgive me, but this week i developed a very strong thing for david coverdale so enjoy this barely-any-plot-just-smut piece

There was a rapping at the door, so urgent and brief that it almost wasn’t noticed. Given the view of pure white outside the frost-framed windows, it only seemed more unbelievable that someone had knocked on the door. Until it sounded again and made David spring to his feet to go check who on earth could possibly be standing out there, fairly far from town, in this kind of weather. The sun was already fading behind the thick, grey, cloudy expanse of the sky stretching over the snow-covered mountains forming a snagged line along the horizon. Whoever stood at the door now must’ve been desperate -- traveling salesman, serial killer, postman, or otherwise -- especially when it was dusk on New Years Eve.

He glanced through the peephole in the door, noticing that there indeed was an individual standing there and they didn’t seem to fit any of the three predictions he’d made. The thick, carved wood door opened to a very bundled-up and shivering stranger with big fluffy snowflakes sticking to her eyelashes. A look of relief was evident on her face as the door was finally answered and the puff of a sigh clouded out from her chapped lips. David felt concerned for this stranger but there was still an edge of restraint and caution in the back of his mind that kept him from welcoming the wayward soul inside. 

“I’m terribly sorry for barging in like this, I just couldn’t see any other building or anything along the road and my car got stuck in some kind of little snowbank and it was starting to fall down even harder… and I just didn’t know what else to do.” The stranger explained.

“Bad luck, I see, but come inside. Is there anyone I can call for you?” He welcomed, still keeping a slightly watchful eye. 

Before he got a response, the stranger tugged off the scarf from around her neck and chin then used a glove-covered hand to push a fur-lined hood off her head.

“I should probably call my friends, they were expecting me for tonight but I got held up at work an extra two hours or so. I honestly feel horrible barging in like this on you.”

“Not a problem, love, it’d be worse if you were stuck out there in the cold by yourself. Phone’s right here.” David assured, pointing to the landline perched atop a small table just a few steps from the door.

“Thank you so much. I’ll call and maybe I can go to a hotel or something for the night if there’s one nearby, just so I’m not any more of a bother to you.” 

The nameless stranger was no longer nameless once the phone was in her bare hand and her friends answered the call: “Hi, Sam! Yup, it’s Y/N. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll make it with this snow...and I’ll try to make it up once it clears away. I’m sorry. Yeah, I hope you have a good party anyways and happy New Year! Okay...okay, bye.”

“So… Y/N’s the name?” The singer inquired once the phone was carefully set back down onto its receiver.

She nodded with a shy smile and silence, again mentioning something about whether there was a hotel nearby for her to go to. But the chatter in her breaths and words, the tension of her body language, the shivers that ran through her frame despite her warm clothes, the universal coincidence that she would end up stranded here in his hands... all made his resolve to keep a distance disappear into his usual amiable and welcoming demeanor. Something in his gut was strongly advising him to just trust her, help her out. The poor thing was left high and dry in the snowfall that had now grown into a blinding winter blizzard when she was supposed to be having a good time with her friends on a holiday. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

A questioning look met his golden brown eyes.

“You can stay here. There aren’t many places right nearby and the roads are probably worse off now than they were before, so better for you to take a spare bedroom. If you’d like.” He offered with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Though I do have to warn you that I have another guest here -- a colleague, of sorts.” 

The shy smile grew on her slightly warmed face, “I don’t mind at all. I just appreciate your generosity. What did you say your name was? I don’t think I caught it, sorry.” 

She was about to hear a surprised answer, until the other guest’s soft voice called from down a hallway: “David? Who’s that?” 

Y/N gave a nod at hearing the answer and a flash of realization washed over her face, only intensifying when she saw David’s “professional guest” walking over to scope out what was going on. Everything seemed to connect in Y/N’s mind, the accidental nature of her evening just following the same surprising course with each minute it seemed. Silence fell over her again as she stood back and subtly continued to shiver, from a mix between the cold that chilled her body or shock. 

“Your name is David...as in Coverdale…” She finally spoke, looking between the other two.

“Yes indeed, and the colleague I mentioned is Jimmy.”

“...as in Page.” Y/N finished for him, slightly in awe and chuckled off the energy with her hand extended out towards them. “It’s wonderful to meet you both.”

Greetings were exchanged, a somewhat comfortable air coming between the three of them as Y/N was urged to actually step inside and warm up by the living room fireplace. She retold her story of how she ended up here, elaborating now that things seemed calmer: how there was a client on the phone who took ages to reassure, how she then checked the time after the call was finally over, how she glanced outside thinking the light flurry wouldn’t impede her, how she quickly changed into her New Years outfit then layered winter garments over it, how she double-checked her luggage in the trunk, how she set off down the familiar roads, how she figured out a shortcut through this road when the snow started falling harder with each passing minute, how the tires slipped over an icy patch then led the car into a small snowbank, how she endlessly tried to dig the snow out from the stuck tires until dusk began darkening the sky, and how she eventually gave up to ask for help at what looked like the only source of light along the road -- which led her to accidentally meeting the two of them.

David stood up, returning with a thick blanket he put over Y/N before she could protest then disappearing again and letting the conversation continue on without him. Jimmy picked up the lull by asking about her profession, the friends she was supposed to be seeing, her interests. She was open and friendly in answering each of his inquiries as well as returning a few of her own in such a casual tone that the guitarist was surprised he gave her truthful replies without much apprehension. There was a genuine, trustworthy aura about her nature that he didn’t sense anything to worry about, and it certainly helped that she looked so lovely even entirely wrapped up in a blanket. It also was evident that she didn’t enjoy being so reliant on others nor so helpless that she’d have to ask strangers for assistance. They took note of the breathtaking view of the forested expanse around David’s house with pillows of fresh snow lying heavy on the dark tree branches and even more falling peacefully over it until the branch gave out, letting all the snow fall in a curtain down to the blanketed-over ground. 

“So I take it the album you’re collaborating on is going well?” Y/N questioned, her voice now steadier as her chills were warmed away and a sparkling smile graced her lips.

“Yeah, that’s right… it was a bit of a surprise but we’ve got a lot of encouragement to go on with the project so we’ve been working out the writing and recording parts of it pretty smoothly but we plan to- ”

He was cut off by the sound of fiddling at the front door lock and both of them turned sharply to see what was going on, only to see it get unlocked by a very snowflake-covered David walking through the door with small suitcases in tow. Y/N was wholly taken aback and stood up immediately with wide eyes, the blanket clutched around her frame like a cape as she tried to form a grateful yet reprimanding remark in response to her host’s outstandingly kind gesture.

“But what if you got sick! I mean there’s no way you aren’t cold dressed in a little leather jacket when I was out there in a puffy winter coat and scarves and all, and it’s snowing even harder now! Besides, how did you manage to open the trunk without a key?!”

“A devious old skill, darling. And it’s perfectly all right, now you’ve got all your belongings with you.” He explained, shaking the half-melting snowflakes out of his wavy hair.

Jimmy observed in amusement at the girl’s uncomprehending, astounded state as she tried to thank the gleaming, humble singer while also metally patting him on the back for winning her over so easily with such a gentlemanly demonstration. The gracious gleam in her eyes shone brightly, unfading, as she kneeled down to open up one of the cases and pulled out two bottles of wine from between thick knit sweaters as an offering to repay his kindness. Her gesture was welcomed, only through the excuse of it being a holiday and a pity that she couldn’t celebrate with her friends as planned. The television was turned onto some celebratory program as background noise while their three-way conversation resumed, continuing with introductions and veering into more personal subjects through a natural course of proceedings. Y/N’s shivers eased away with any tensions of unfamiliarity, likely assisted by the effects of the winter-temperature-chilled wine being sipped between remarks. 

“Can you believe this prima donna? Won’t let anyone except a highly-trusted, Secret Service-level roadie get within a foot of his sealed guitar cases.” David teased.

Y/N turned to Jimmy with raised brows, “You must be very protective. I mean, understandable with such priceless things…”

The guitarist gave a pointed look to the singer with their guest’s apparent sympathy towards his side of things. “I’m glad you see it that way because they are fairly delicate -- kept in the wrong temperature for too long, they all lose their tunings, and jostling them around even in cases can result in little scrapes in the flawless, smooth sheen.”

“Just messing with you a bit, Jim. You just tend to get a bit frantic if you catch a glimpse of someone getting an inch too close. And you still talk about that time at Stargroves or wherever the hell it was, when Robert- ”

“Yes, I know.” Jimmy cut him off with slight irritation at the memory, turning to explain the story to Y/N, “He picked up one of my guitars to play around on while I stepped inside then had to put it back exactly where he found it as I was walking back outside so I couldn’t figure out that he got a hold of it.” 

She tutted in disapproval and smiled, surprised that such a conversation could come so naturally having met fairly recently as well as coming from entirely different worlds. 

“Are your friends in Tahoe then, Y/N?” The singer inquired, changing the only-amusing-to-two-people topic. 

“No, they’re a little deeper into California so it would’ve taken me another hour and a half to reach them.”

“Oh, even longer with these road conditions and given the state of your car. It isn’t well-suited for this type of weather at all so it’s good you stopped. For the purpose of your safety, of course, and since you make excellent company.” David complimented, receiving another bashful smile with an averted gaze for a reply. 

Y/N was sleepy after the sky had gotten dark and the warmth started to be lulling with the drone of the television personalities cheering on about the nightly festivities; her eyelids were heavy and half-mast while her frame leaned back drowsily against the sectional. David swiftly put his wine glass down over the coffee table and swept his arm over her shoulder, positioning her to lie down over him in place of a pillow just as she fell asleep. When she woke up in a hazy state of mind, she saw the snow still drifting down to the ground and heard the tv program continuing to talk in the background. A perfectly disheveled mane of blond hair shifted slightly over her and she glanced up to see David, feeling her head lying in his lap while his hand delicately rested along her face. Her other hand had slipped out from the edge of the blanket, now held by the guitarist’s hand with his thumb slowly rubbing along the back of it. 

She moved to sit up abruptly, slightly in disbelief and embarrassment. “Oh gosh, sorry I fell asleep. And on both of you.”

“Not a problem at all, darling.” Jimmy assured then brought up her hand to his lips. 

Her gaze fell bashfully as a smile threatened to make itself known across her lips and she stretched lightly, letting the blanket finally fall from her shoulders. Like an instinct, David’s arm replaced the cloak of the blanket and drew her in -- either as a friendly gesture or as a means of messing with his collaborative partner who was clearly interested in their unexpected guest. Y/N’s New Years Eve ensemble was finally revealed from coats, blankets, scarves, or any other layers that had been over it the entire evening and, despite the usual indifference to clothes being worn while staying at home, attention was drawn to Y/N in the long-sleeved little black dress with marabou feather lining that seemed perfectly tailored to her frame. The effortless elegance of her appearance accessorized with tiny sparkling earrings and a silver necklace around her neck was strangely charismatic, almost telling of her personality in a way: unassuming but not in want of anything. 

Noticing the weight of two pairs of eyes fixed on her she returned them curiously, wondering what had caught their attention in the first place until she broke the silence with a chuckle: “What? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, really. Something is very right.” The man to her left mumbled.

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr, Page?” She challenged.

“I’m entirely certain of it.” He affirmed, his gaze telling as it swept over her lounging frame. “Though I don’t think I need to elaborate.”

She dissolved into a fit of laughter with a shake of her head, thinking he was just messing around and playing at a flirty persona. The moment seemed to pass for a while until Y/N realized neither of them had broken out of a facade. Maybe it wasn’t a joke. Or maybe they were really good at holding a joke. She discreetly shifted her eyes between each of their faces. But she was instantly caught, on both sides. The pretty view outside and dull program on the tv screen were entirely forgotten as the two musicians kept quiet, allowing Y/N to connect all the dots, work through the genuinely serious tone behind Jimmy’s comment then see it was a shared thought. It came upon her suddenly, dawning very clearly on her face and with her body language when she backed up further into the sofa cushion with a questioning expression pointed between them as though to ask the question she was too disbelieving to put into words.

“Wait, you can’t- you’re not serious? You both are just messing with me.” She argued.

David tried to reason her out of skepticism: “You underestimate yourself, darling. We aren’t messing with you.”

“We’ll swear on a Bible if you like.” Jimmy contributed, now mirroring her amusement from before.

Y/N let a flush rise through her and she kept quiet, utterly uncertain of what else to do for the moment. They let her be, turning to the tv so she could gather her thoughts into some form of reply and gloating in their seats. The snow was Y/N’s visual distraction, keeping her from looking to either side and having her mind get lost again, so a somewhat clever response could formulate to make up for her silence. Finally, things seemed to sink in: a strange coincidence that led her here, two incredible musicians that greeted her in the middle of nowhere, the same two people being utterly charming and gentlemanly towards her, now both of them turning a different kind of attention to her. What in the world had she done to deserve such luck Y/N didn’t know, but she was more than grateful for it. 

“No need to swear on anything, but I somehow doubt there’s an actual Bible in this house.” Y/N finally remarked.

Her two companions glanced back between themselves briefly and David answered her, a change in his tone: “Would you like to bet on that, my dear?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “Sure. What would you like to bet on it?”

“If I don’t have one, you can pick whatever you’d like to do in payback -- within reason. If I do, we get to do whatever, for three minutes, within reason and with your permission.” 

“Deal.” She said thoughtlessly. 

“I’m afraid you lose this bet, Y/N. Look up at that bookcase, right up on the left edge of the fourth shelf.” David pointed. “I think I got it from a Sunday school as a kid and, honestly, I was too afraid of the consequences of getting rid of it or keeping it hidden away in a box purposely so now it’s up on the shelf.”

“So… you win.” Y/N announced with poorly-mocked disappointment. “Now is this three minutes each or together?”

“Together; I think three minutes is more than enough for the both of us.” 

They glanced between one another, some silent conversation in their eyes agreeing on the terms of executing their victory briefly. It ended with the guitarist sitting back, looking up at the clock on the wall and giving a nod when a new minute began. The singer reached his hand delicately to her face, grazing along where he desired for his lips to graze instead and let his hand linger down along her shoulder then down her arm until he reached the edge of the blanket across her lap. 

“May I?” He inquired, innocence shining in his caramel-colored eyes.

She nodded immediately. The blanket was lifted off of her, David’s hands replacing its warmth at her hips and slipping just beneath the feather-lined hem of her dress but without a plea or request this time. His hands remained at her mid-thigh, but he leaned in to kiss her as though in slow motion: prolonged, gradually leaning in deeper against her lips, his hands gently lingering across her thighs, and her head tilting back at the dazed effect he was having on her. The timer was entirely forgotten when less than a minute had gone by. Jimmy was far less delicate, tugging up a part of her tights from her leg. 

“May these come off? They’re in the way and I’ll promise we’ll keep you warm.” 

Y/N moaned against the singer’s lips in affirmation, her hands pulling down at the waistband to bring the message across to him and he picked up where she left off. Her hands were then free to snake through David’s hair that framed her face with the way he was leaning over her, his hips straddling her once the tights were removed and then grinding into hers. It seemed to stoke a fire up through her abdomen, only making her want more and more from either of them -- timer be damned. Especially at the singer’s touch feathering down her exposed neck and then gently grasping her breast. Y/N helplessly leaned into him as she sharply drew a breath at the sensation, clutching tighter at his hair and earning a hum against her parting lips. 

Just as his hand meandered lower along her abdomen, the guitarist’s soft voice stopped all progression: “That’s three minutes.”

“Forget the three minutes.” She demanded with aggravation in her tone and an icy edge to her eyes at the loss of contact, then softening to beckon him nearer: “Besides, wouldn’t you rather join in?”

Despite his usual, well-controlled demeanor, she made an offer that was just too irresistible for him to uphold it in the moment. David sensed the change and shifted out of the way just as Jimmy intervened, taking command but still granting the singer some space. His warm breath gradually trailed up over Y/N’s neck, his lips barely touching her neck and teasing over her lips like a whisper. A filthy phrase dripped from them just before he clutched her frame into his and kissed Y/N harder, hands roaming across her back. She was pulled up onto the guitarist’s lap, helplessly arching into towards him and almost ravenously returning all of his vehement actions like the fiery spark had grown into a bonfire that consumed every inch of her. But the singer didn’t remain passive. His touch crept up the sides of her thighs, up her backside, then down to the fluffed hem of her dress.

David’s lips brushed along her ears: “May I have your permission to remove this, love?”

Her head tilted upwards, diverting Jimmy’s lips to her neck while answering the question: “Please.”

The hem was gently tugged over her back, then her hands were diverted from their hold on Jimmy so the singer could slip the dress sleeves off her shoulders and up over her head. It seemed to embolden them: the guitarist sneaking his hands beneath the fabric of her panties and grasping at her ass while the singer reached around to her chest with his lips trailing along her shoulder blades. Y/N felt like she was high enough to see stars and wavering like a flickering flame along to the whims of her sensations. Her breaths were becoming thick with heat, hearing and feeling the musicians’ heaving breaths across her exposed skin. The room felt too hot now, the shiver-inducing winter temperature outside easily forgotten with the excitement going on inside. It was like a wild fantasy come true -- on all sides -- especially as they meandered down the hall for a roomier space to continue and the muffled sound of New Years exclamations came from the television as the three of them reconnected.


	130. illicit affair (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw-ish

request: "Request for Older Professor Jimmy with secret relationship with student?"

I meandered on my way down to the professor’s desk after class, behind the other couple students that got called down to discuss a test. They each set up a time to retake it then dismissed themselves off to their next responsibilities for the day and then I was the only one left in the room. The professor’s expressionless facade remained steadfast while I couldn’t help my smile through making up some bullshit opening sentence about screwing up my test until the last student was out of the room. With a peek over my shoulder, I confirmed the auditorium was completely empty before reaching out my hand to tilt his chin up from the stack of papers on his desk and meet my gaze with those mesmerizing green irises. They seemed to freeze time whenever I took them in, and then I could never resist the urge to lean in to kiss him.

My touch lingered, even as he pulled back after giving me just a taste of appeasement. He gave me a warning glance but his thumb reassuringly smoothed over the back of my hand -- he wasn’t angry, just cautious. I gave him a smile and promised to visit his office after my last class, trying to keep up the sweeter character when we could easily be caught. My mind, on the other hand, roamed on the wild side and pictured all of its fantasies manifesting when there was less risk: my fingers combing through the silvery curls of his neat ponytail, running my hands up the crisp fabric of his pressed suit ensembles, just feeling his frame up against mine, leaning into the direction of his touch, gazing up into his agelessly wise eyes between collisions of our lips, drowning in the slow heat that would always spread through my body, and wishing for nothing but to be led anywhere by our desirous impulses.

He sent me off with a light swat to my rear and a laugh at my still-surprised reaction to the familiar gesture, hinting that a surprise would await me when I’d come see him. I gave a curious look that went unanswered and then left him to his papers. It was difficult to sit still through my next class with the droning monotony of the professor’s lecture and letting my mind wander to anticipation or guessing what could possibly be in store. Flashes of images, memories really, came to mind as though I was watching a dream-like, sensational movie through the rest of the forty-minutes of the class. I packed my things eagerly and walked more briskly than I ever had before to the office, practically racing against the passage of time to not let a single second slip away.

I caught him in his office sooner than expected, and I could tell that he knew it without even looking at a clock at his unfamiliar off-guard state. My feet jolted to a halt and my eyes widened, my brain wondering if I should just go back the way I came. There was a different student sitting opposite him at his desk, quite startled by my thunderous appearance in the doorway and bashful exit as they finished retaking a test. The professor mouthed and gestured for me to sit down in one of the chairs a bit further off until the student finished, explaining that I arrived a little too early for my meeting with him. I sat back near the door, taking out my notebook for my most challenging class, reviewing my notes, figuring what I needed to study more, and being pulled out of my focused reverie at the sound of a sigh with the lingering weight of a gaze I’d felt on me the whole time I was studying up a bit. A glimmer of sharpness in the professor’s green eyes was a helpless warning that even my perfectly innocent activity had gone very well noticed in a way I hadn’t anticipated. He was lucky the student finished hastily and left the office with a simple “thank you”. Now his attention was solely focused on me, it was almost daunting when he beckoned me nearer to his desk with a curl of his finger.

“Hello professor, sorry for barging in on you.” I apologized with a bat of my eyes as I sat down at the chair across from his.

“Don’t get cheeky with me, darling, you underestimate your own power. Quite frankly, the surprise will have to wait now.” He stated emotionlessly.

I gave him an empathetic look and crossed a leg over the other, watching my professor arise from his seat then walk around his desk to my side. My gaze lingered up his frame slowly to take his appearance in completely, savor the sophistication and beauty of how he always looked. His face remained stoic. But his brows raised as though to silently question what I found so interesting. His finger curled beneath my chin, keeping my head at this angle and my eyes looking to his face. I felt like melting into the seat when our eyes met again. Instead, I found myself obediently standing up barely a foot away from him after he called me up with a brief nod of his head. 

The professor’s hand dropped to my side, smoothly shifting to the small of my back, curling around my frame, and roughly pulling me in to collide with his. My fingers combed through his hair, tugging out the hair tie keeping his neat ponytail together while he made his lips now collide with mine. The sheer intensity made my breath catch in my throat and my eyes widen, catching sight of our entangled shadows dancing over the bookcase of his evidently-expensive, leather-bound tomes or marble statuettes. Out of the corner of my eye between our movements, we almost looked like flickering candle flames moving against each other. 

He pulled away breathlessly and looked to me with just a hint of a smug smile playing at his lips. The confidence in his expression easily got under my skin because I always saw a tempting challenge posed against me. It was like a clever game of chess or a logically-weaved debate, the heat of the moment catching up to us and waiting to make the perfect move to ensure the ultimate victory. Though this was far better -- knowing that even if I didn’t gain the upper hand, I’d still receive a more than agreeable consolation prize. My heart was beating in my chest like swift bird wings at their ascent, my head somehow spinning comfortably as I remained in his arms. I clutched at his suit jacket, holding onto a sense of stability and attempting to draw him somewhat nearer into me. He chuckled against my lips at my evident vigor, releasing me against my will. 

“Someone’s very eager. I think perhaps we’d better leave before we get caught making noise in here, don’t you agree Y/N?” 

I nodded, half-heartedly disconnecting from him, taking my things as he did his, and subtly following him out of the office. The autumn wind cooled me off almost instantly when we stepped outside, fiery-colored leaves mirroring the heat that my professor managed to warm me with in just a few mere minutes. My eyes shifted to the ornate architecture of the academic buildings, resisting the urge to look at him instead. I did steal a glance, though, and stifled a smile at the couple new wrinkles on his clothes from minutes before. The campus was fairly vacant in the mid-afternoon when everyone either had class, was catching up on assignments, or getting lunch which made our slightly-distanced walk feel less risky and exposed to prying eyes. But our walk turned behind the central sidewalks through the buildings, venturing behind them into even quieter areas and around to the staff parking lot. 

The final destination was kept a mystery to me once he opened up the car door for me and walked around to the driver’s seat. Our anticipatory ride was fairly quiet, accompanied by slow orchestral pieces through the speakers that almost sounded like a film soundtrack with the beautiful autumnal scenery drifting by the window as he drove further out from campus. Leaves blustered in the wind, swirling around and speeding by exactly how flighty my nerve receptors were through this state of prolonged waiting. Every minute stretched on for eternity, I watchfully kept track of the streets we turned through as a temporary distraction, my body seemed unable to sit still in the passenger’s seat, the music seemed to resonate within me whenever it played a dramatic passage. Finally he pulled through a fairly isolated, tree-lined driveway to a grand-looking home surrounded by a forest on all sides, no neighboring residences to be seen through it. I came to the conclusion that this was his home given the complete privacy and the stylistic similarity to his office design; I was touched by the gesture and turned to him before he could leave the car.

“Jimmy, this is your surprise?” I exclaimed in soft astoundment.

“Yes, is there something wrong?” 

“Not at all, it’s just- it seems like such a trusting and intimate thing for you to bring me here. I feel so honored, and it’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled, unbuckling himself and coming around to my door while I reached to gather my class-related belongings from where I placed them at my feet. The door opened at my side, my chivalrous professor’s hand outstretched to me. I took it but not for assistance to get out of the car, just to hold onto it and keep him by my side as he escorted me to the entrance. The ceilings were far up over my head, massive pieces of art lined the walls, candles or marble statuettes were placed over the shining dark tabletops, more bookcases consumed whole walls, the rooms I could see from the doorway had a pristinely polished design that matched him perfectly -- it was just like his office but even more expansive and sophisticated. An expensive scent with a hint of sweet wax permeated the air. I was so distracted by taking it all in that I barely noticed him calling me along through the hallway. 

There was an almost ethereal or magical quality to his belongings as I slowly lingered behind him. Even if I wasn’t his student, I would’ve been able to guess that his profession had something to do with art history: an artist themselves couldn’t have put together such a beautiful space, only someone who had an infatuation and true appreciation for these pieces could manage to amalgamate them all in a way to reveal their most beautiful light to any viewer. I was pulled out of a reverie by the tug of my professor’s hand at mine to the kitchen. Large windows at the one wall illuminated the otherwise fairly dark room and framed the view of the forest outside with piles of warm-colored leaves laced over the ground. I thought I even saw a deer wandering through the peaceful setting.

“Jimmy, it’s breathtaking.” I commented, finally turning to face him at the other side of the kitchen island. 

“I’m glad you think so, Y/N.” He grinned with a touch of pride through his inhale. “Would you like anything, darling?”

“No, my love.” I mirrored his bright expression, distracted by him again and away from the beauty of our surroundings. “Though I would like to continue where we left off in your office.”

“How could I refuse such a request by my lovely guest?” 

He staggered smoothly towards me and instantly placed his hands at the sides of my face. His lips connected to mine, touch brushing across my shoulders before crossing at the small of my back and holding me up to him again. It was exactly reminiscent of our time just an hour ago, a perfect fulfillment of my wish. The flame in me grew with a new vigor and I clutched to the lapels of his suit jacket. 

“You seemed to have grown even more eager than before, maybe you should follow me down the hall before we end up on the floor together.” The professor remarked with a veiled urgency.

With a pivot around in his arms, he redirected me suavely through the hallway and into a doorway to what I assumed was a guest bedroom. I didn’t even really notice the intricate tapestry over the entirety of one wall with the strong distraction of an enigmatic glimmer in his eyes. It was like a spark of an electric current rippling through my veins, only becoming more invigorating when he positioned me on the bedcover and I couldn’t resist pulling him down with me by the belt loops. We were immediately entangled upon contact -- hands grasping at each other’s clothes, pulling them off and replacing them with brief touches of our lips over the exposed skin -- like two dancing flames that couldn’t possibly separate until entirely burnt out. 

Everything else was forgotten in the moment, only focusing on the sensations each of us were able to stir from within each other by any means that our impulses drove us to. Tugs of the hair, scratches down the other’s back, biting kisses, impassioned cries, frantic touches, thickly-falling breaths, clutching at anything nearby, undulation against each other, the heat of the room growing hotter and hotter like a ring of fire was blazing up around us. As my whole frame began to tense, riding up a wave of pleasure that was about to crash, my eyes were fixed solely upon Jimmy’s as a means of pleading for him to continue bringing me over the edge and to warn him of the impending collapse.

***************

In the soft morning light streaming in through the windows, a shadow passed my lightly-shut eyes. I opened them to see Jimmy dressing himself in yet another ensemble of crisp black and shifted up onto my elbows with amusement on my face. He looked sharp as always but there was a rosy warmth coloring his usually pale pallor now. I observed him doing his hair afterwards: combing through the silvery strands, twisting a black hair tie around it low at his neck, and fixing the curls exactly how he wanted them. It was funny to see him so domestic and moving around thinking that he wasn’t being seen by anyone else. But he noticed and turned around at my unstifled chuckle through his dressing process. 

“Ah, good morning Y/N.” Jimmy greeted and approached the foot of the bed. “Mind telling me what’s so funny?”

“You always wear black.” 

“That’s all?” 

“Yes, I just thought it was funny that you’ve probably got thirty of the same black suit and never wear any other color. Maybe just a tiny bit of white once in a blue moon.”

“I’ll have you know that I used to wear quite a bit of color when I was younger. A bit too much, at times.” He confessed. 

“What happened?” I cocked my head rhetorically.

My comment apparently struck a chord in his mind as he turned to his closet and muttered enticingly: “I think I still have a bit of green silk lying around…”


	131. hotel room home (john bonham x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Bonham x reader  
> Warnings: hints of nsfw in the very last sentence
> 
> may have been slightly inspired by the one line from "Almost Famous" about Penny Lane making a home in a hotel room which sounds a lot sweeter in the movie than just here

The whole scene felt tumultuous, like a ship at sea with dark clouds moving over the horizon and a strange discord amongst everyone. Everything would be smoothed over just before their bombastic shows, their almost psychic intuition with each other too strong to be interrupted by any residual tour misery or discontent. Their whirlwind lifestyle wasn’t one that could continuously be maintained with ease and it was starting to weigh on everyone, not just the band. I was glad to be a reminder of home whilst on the road, to John at the very least and maybe slightly to their not-so-near neighbor Robert. But the solace was temporary and not enough to distract from the million things otherwise going on.

I could see tension in John’s frame just as the show ended and he walked offstage, looping an arm around my shoulders silently while we followed the others further back. The numb buzz in our ears and the blurred process of transportation, skipping a party at some other place in the city, led us back to the hotel that must’ve been just as noisy as the ocean of fans at the stadium. Attention was endless, rarely straying away from them on tour and any onlooker could find themselves easily sympathetic to the band. It made some forms of appeasing the crowd or making use of the moment much more forgivable, in a way. But tonight I pulled John after me relentlessly, up through the elevator then down the hall and behind the safety of the suite’s doorway. Now the noise was a lot more muffled, even if it came from adjacent rooms. 

Something was definitely wrong. He didn’t bother to resist at all or even insist to go talk to some friends for an hour or so then come back here. I felt his hand move from my eased grip to my torso, holding me in closer and his face buried in my hair for a few moments before drawing back. The usual warmth was there, but more melancholy. His touch lingered as long as it could around my back and fixed itself to my sides. His expression was weary with only traces of a cheery smile over them. His words were delayed when his eyes finally met mine with so many thoughts reflecting in them. I stood patiently waiting, sensing much that was weighing on his chest and there was difficulty in expressing it all clearly. Stuttered, uncertain sentences fell upon my receptive ears so I hushed him when he fell entirely silent.

“It’s alright, I think I understand what you’re trying to tell me and it’s overwhelming just watching how brutal the touring can be. How about we stay here all evening and just pretend we’re at home? Ignoring the noise outside of the doors, though.” I offered.

The smile returned, genuinely, and he nodded before drawing me back into him. I reluctantly stepped back, telling him to get comfortable while I made arrangements for a few things to come up to our room and mentally reminding myself to change out of these clothes after the hotel staff left. Luckily, the night weather seemed fairly clear and not too cold so we could make use of the suite’s balcony that overlooked the light-spotted city below that almost mirrored the twinkling stars overhead. It wouldn’t really be like home and it certainly wouldn’t be enough to forget entirely about the remainder of the grueling tour left, but it was something. A small gesture to try to make it more bearable aside from merely being present amongst the entourage. 

I heard the shower running just as there came a knock at the door -- perfect timing for making this whole setup a little bit more of a surprise. A fleet of hotel staff entered uniformly with their carts of items I ordered: a proper dinner of comfort foods, a single bottle of wine to wash it down with, a slightly indulgent dessert for afterwards, two still-steaming cups of herbal tea, extra blankets, and a set of vanilla candles for soft illumination out on the balcony table. It was far from being home-reminiscent but better than it was before. As the staff left, I slipped into a fluffy robe with the hotel name monogram embroidered onto the side and put on a record that was the closest thing I could find to John’s favorite kind of blues. The music further muffled the noise from outside our small respite and I actually felt quite pleased with my spontaneous plan, especially at seeing a far broader expression of cheer on the face of the fresh-out-of-the-shower drummer in a robe that matched mine. 

“How the hell did you get all this up here so quickly? I didn’t take that long in the shower, did I?” John asked rhetorically, thanking me with a kiss on the head before following me out to the balcony dinner setup.

“Of course not, the hotel staff was just very efficient and I was hoping you’d feel a bit better. Like a home away from home for a night.”

“I appreciate it, Y/N, it’s very thoughtful and kind of you.” 

We sat down at the table across from each other, looking out at the cityscape and honestly talking to each other with privacy that was otherwise hard to find in such a roaming environment. Our stomachs were full and we felt warm with the blankets wrapped over our robes, almost like this was a vacation rather than a necessary professional engagement. It coaxed a bellied guffaw from John by the end of our desserts and tea. He gratefully planted a kiss to my lips as we headed inside before the night temperature cooled off further, his arm at the curve of my back keeping me at his side while we walked inside together. I stacked the cleared dishes on a nearby coffee table inside then turned my attention solely back to John, who tugged me by the hand with a promise of gracious action in return for the dinner I set up. Needless to say, the morning after resulted in him having a better attitude and red nail scratches peeking from his tank top on his shoulders that paired well (at least according to a jeering Robert) with the dark marks on my neck.


	132. songbird (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!Robert Plant x fem!reader who's a folk singer  
> Warnings: none
> 
> honestly idk where this was going nor where this idea came from but here's how it turned out

The grassy, sunlit fields were lined with popped-up stages and dressed-up people roaming the grounds on the, surprisingly warm, late summer Seattle day. Beyond the slight, springy green hills surrounding everything came tall grey buildings and the nearby Space Needle protruding through the skyline. Artists’ stands stood between the stages with handmade jewelry, nature photography, tie-dyed clothes, textured paintings, leatherbound journals, even bins of vinyl records out for crowds to take as souvenirs from the festival. Crowds filtered in as the morning turned to early afternoon and muffled music started wafting through the air when the first artists took their stages. The main stage remained vacant for the moment but audience members reserved their spots sitting in the grass or standing at the sides, preparing for the first act to come out. 

Subtlety, sunglasses, and a plain black ensemble went a long way for the seasoned singer lingering like a shadow hiding away from the openness of where the majority of people were gathering. His eyes lingered around at the artists’ stands then shifted to the stage at the arrival of the first group up to the microphone stand and speakers. The large group carried up shining taiko drums, various types of flutes, and carved kotos with them to play out for the gathered crowd – the open, flat space perfect for the echoing, expansive feeling of the traditional music they played. This act was followed by a great contrast of synthesized rhythms with a soulful vocalist. He noted the variety of the festival’s sets as a large group of butterfly-like dancers took the stage. 

“They look so delicate but they must be so strong to hold themselves in those contortive positions.” 

Robert turned his head to the side from his leaning post against a vacant stand, surprised he hadn’t noticed the arrival of the t-shirt-and-jean-clad woman standing to his side closer towards the audience’s area. Her eyes were fixed on the stage, initially making him second-guess hearing a voice at all until she glanced back towards him expectantly. He nodded in reply with hesitance towards bringing attention to himself if he made a more vocal response. Barely a moment passed before she cursed under her breath and hurried towards the stage, walking along its side to the back, and he assumed that maybe she knew one of the dancers that had just performed or maybe she worked at the event. 

But then she reappeared in the center of the main stage, the crowd having almost doubled since the first set, and she was joined by an acoustic guitarist propped up at the edge of a stool. The older man plucked at the strings in an intricate but repetitive pattern that got the audience to sway along with the music and she took a breath then leaned in towards the microphone. Her voice sailed powerfully over the grounds, like the entire city could hear her smooth voice cascading through the lines of the song. It was an unfamiliar tune and an unfamiliar language, though beautiful in the style of melancholic folk music. She shyly addressed the shocked, applauding crowd in gratitude and switched to singing in English – a song he recognized as either a more obscure Joan Baez work or something by Emmylou Harris. 

Applause followed her off the stage another couple songs later and she disappeared behind the back curtains, a jacket now over her shoulders as she sneakily exited through the sidelines while a different performer began with a new set that distracted the audience’s attention. But not the shadowy onlooker’s. He flagged her down and she curiously came up to him, slightly more flustered from just having finished singing. Her brows raised expectantly but a warm smile was etched on her satisfied expression. 

“You’ve got a fantastic voice, what’s your name?” 

“Y/N, and thank you.” She smiled with genuine gratitude. 

“What was that second song you sang? I didn’t recognize it.” 

“A Hungarian folk song called Szivarvany havasan. My childhood neighbors had a daughter who was my friend and used to sing it all the time. I just like singing that style of songs in different languages, even if I don’t know it well.” Y/N confessed. “Goes back to how I was taught, I guess.” 

“You had a singing teacher?” 

“I sang with the opera when I was younger, so it was a lot of Italian, French, Spanish, German, and sometimes Russian that made me pick up bits of languages just to know what I was singing.” 

Robert chuffed, “No wonder you’re good! Singing opera as a kid… can’t imagine that.” 

Even her laugh was melodic and beautiful, he noticed. 

“Do you do this all the time?” He asked. 

“Sing? Not really, just something I wish I could do primarily if it was more of a stable job.” 

“You’re not in the opera?” 

She gave him a comically strained expression in reply and shook her head. Maybe it’d be possible to get the background story on that later, should he continue to act on this strange impulse to interact with the crowd he intended to avoid throughout the day. Though part of him probably wanted this kind of interaction subconsciously, otherwise he wouldn’t have shown up to a popular festival in a big city in the first place. Maybe there wasn’t a point in fighting it. He didn’t seem to want to stop and any semblance of restraint or distance vanished the moment he caught her friendly smile flashing at him. 

“How do these shows usually work? That is, if you know how this festival works.” He questioned. 

“Oh, it starts in the late morning and goes on through until it’s dark outside for two or three days in a row. Lots of traditional performances and smaller performers in the beginning then it sort-of builds up into more well-known people.” She explained. “Is this your first time in Seattle?” 

“No, definitely not my first time in the city but first time I got to… roam around freely and see things like this.” 

“I take it you visited for business then?” 

“Yeah, touring actually.” 

She nodded with narrowed eyes, catching on that he didn’t really intend to open up about who he was even if she did recognize him. The momentary discomfort didn’t last long as Y/N changed the subject to other attractions at the festival, apparently having forgotten about the poster sale corner and the stands of mouth-watering delicacies that she just had to show him as a newcomer to the festival. Her windswept way of navigating through the venue took them down clear paths without many other passersby, successfully keeping him from being stopped whether or not it was on purpose. They remained in an unnoticeable little wooden table with a sampler of Y/N’s lunch recommendations and a congenial conversation. 

Robert was happy to have followed that impulse to not fend off anyone aside from colleagues, acquaintances, or business relations – it made the afternoon far more enjoyable than he expected it would go. At the very least, he found a tour guide. But he also had an idea that came from finding this gifted songbird. When he made the proposition he had in mind, she reacted with utter disbelief initially… followed by days-long shellshock when it finally sunk in. The offer of something she only could’ve imagined of happening. A foolish, reoccurring daydream within her grasp of reality – the daydream now only growing wilder and wilder every day as it started to feel more real. 

Phone messages, emails, schedules, sets, and all the logistical, boring paperwork coming her way were met with giddiness. She was really going to perform onstage for people with her kind, newfound acquaintance and even get a few of her own numbers. It still felt surreal up until the moment when she stood at the airport with the rest of the musical entourage and several carts full of everyone’s luggage. She could see the plane outside the huge window, just through the little makeshift hallway that extended to its door and a drizzle of rain already lightly tapping at its sleek metal exterior. The only thing that pulled her out of the mental daze was a hand at her shoulder – Robert telling her that it was time to go and joking that she looked like a character in a dramatic film standing at the window for a long-awaited relative’s return. 

The “private charter” plane happened to be specially reserved for just our group and Y/N felt things get surreal again, like she was still looking behind her eyelids rather than seeing her actual life with wide open eyes. Funny how flights became far more enjoyable and much less monotonous when it was just one group of people who were all either old friends or cordially getting to know one another, allowed to do whatever they wanted to pass the time as long as it wasn’t too raucous, and all the anticipation of traveling to new places or having new experience was buzzing through the air. The three-or-so-hour long flight went by far too quickly, landing the crew in California with the sun beaming out at them as everyone was ushered into cars over to the hotel. In the private solace of her room, Y/N finally let out all her disbelief and let the beginning of the journey really sink in. 

It was a small, neat room with her luggage neatly stacked up by the foot of the bed. Her view was the concrete wall of the building next door and a sliver of the street outside. The room’s walls were thin enough to hear footsteps in the hallway as if there was no wall at all. She plopped down at the foot of the bed and sighed, it was a dream. Tomorrow would be a fulfillment of it. For now, there was a suitcase to unpack for toiletries and to straighten out whatever stage garment felt suitable for the occasion. The seemingly simple ritual of unpacking was like a veil of calmness on top of the excitement threatening to bubble over. It felt indulgent to order room service for dinner and relax over the edge of the bed with it while a marathon of some half-interesting tv series played in the background – a decent distraction to the continuous befuddlement of her thoughts. 

Y/N could barely sleep that night before the first show and she spent the very late morning half-dozing through brushing her teeth with a cooling cup of coffee on the nightstand. The knock on the door was like a wake-up call: jolting her out of a drowsy haze into quick action to rinse her mouth, put on a robe, swiftly pat her hair into place, and answer whoever was standing on the other side. Anticipating the hotel maid, she was surprised to find a casually-dressed and cheerfully smiling Robert standing there instead. 

“Good morning, love. Mind if I come in for a minute?” He asked. 

Y/N stepped aside, inviting him through the threshold with the gesture of her arm and not letting her confusion come across her face. 

“How are you feeling? First night and all.” He inquired once the door was shut and seats were found. 

A wry smile curved along her lips as she thought through her answer: “I can’t think of why I’m nervous but I am. The feeling will probably disappear once I’m on the stage and already started through the first line. Just have to get through the build-up of nerves first.” 

“A philosopher!” He snorted. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous of, I promise, and if anything at all happens to make you unhappy, this group of people is excellent in making you forget in afterparties.” 

“Good to know.” She laughed, letting out a sigh and letting him ease her through a continued conversation steered away from the source of her anxious anticipation for the night. 

The late morning melted into afternoon and then to early evening. A glance at the clock made the impending concert flare in their minds, getting them both back up to their feet for preparations since the transportation would be outside and waiting for everyone in just over an hour. Every member of the entourage was mentally running through their process for fulfilling their responsibilities, changing into their clothes set out for the night, triple-checking everything, calming themselves, mindlessly distracting themselves through the spare minutes, pacing along the shiny stone floor of the lobby area as the whole group gathered. The antsy, restless ambience carried on during the car ride and as everyone lingered around the backstage area like sinister shadows through the vacant, half-lit space as time ticked down for all the preparations to be completed. Strange thumps of unplugged instruments, brassy accidental taps of cymbals, and eccentric-sounding voiced warmups echoing off the faraway walls of the venue. 

Reassuring hands patted Y/N along her back as she was ushered over to the side of the stage, in position behind the microphone stand to provide complimenting vocal lines to Robert’s hypnotic, emphatic voice. The moment the music began and lights shone brightly overhead, the crowd truly like an ocean as far back as anyone could see, everything fell perfectly into place. Every lyric, every note, every improvisation, every tiny little detail felt right even if it wasn’t supposed to happen. It flowed right through Y/N without conscious thought, like muscle memory in her whole diaphragm and chest that made her nerves instantly be replaced with a smiling, comfortable satisfaction. She even felt confidence taking the lead for a few numbers before capping off the night with an energetic duet, the praising uproar of the audience sending a rush through her veins. 

The following nights followed suit, each one unique but just as dynamic and electrifying as the first. There were a few adjustments made to setlist or how the instrumentation would be played but the goal was to always give a good show and have fun with it whenever possible – art, of course, being a form of expression and the concerts being a fluid, Dionysian expression of expressions to the audience in attendance. Sometimes there were local musicians who would be invited for a song or two in various cities and join the afterparty group, directing everyone to the best hole-in-the-wall places of their home prowls. The same familiar yet nomadic sentiment carried through the states and then through the leg of European stops in historic, tourist-filled cities.

Through the tour’s passing course of time, Y/N found her birthday arriving far sooner than anticipated and on a performance night with an adjusted setlist making room for Robert’s insistent request that everyone sing a happy birthday to her, no matter how much she refused the attention. She reflected backstage that evening how easily everyone seemed to get along and how so many had quickly become friends. Preparations and warm-ups went on as usual as she sat back, humming one of the songs to herself and watching people brush past to get everything set in place for the show. They still had an hour or so until the audience would be allowed in through the doors. Y/N distracted herself by answering the several message notifications on her phone until someone leaned up against the wall beside her and she could feel their gaze.

“For the umpteenth time, happy birthday.” Robert greeted once she tucked the phone away and her eyes glanced up to meet his.

“Thanks. Again.” She chuckled.

“I do have something for you this time.” He explained, revealing his hands from behind his back.

A beautiful leather-bound journal with a simple silhouette of a bird gracing the front cover was offered to her. Y/N took it curiously, opening it to see a series of blank pages and a neat stack of small items tucked in the middle of it: museum tickets, a polaroid of when she fell asleep backstage in Pennsylvania after having to spend six hours at the venue (where she remembered singing Marianne Faithfull’s “As Tears Go By”), a handwritten note from him with half-joking instructions on his creative process, another (very dramatic) shot of the time he convinced her to tap back into her opera roots, a pressed flower from a bouquet she’d gotten him for a different occasion, and a final photo of them sharing a look while singing a duet together. It was such a seemingly simple thing but it brought a wave of sentiment over her. The thoughtfulness of his gift made it more perfect than anything she could’ve asked for. She only nodded with an unfading smile when he explained that it was for writing her own works, given the few times she expressed a newfound interest in trying to compose some originals, and that the bird was in honor of his nickname for the songbird he happily discovered by accident.


	133. whole lotta love (led zeppelin x reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: pick your own led zeppelin adventure! x reader  
> Warnings: none

Bulky headphones were eagerly put over my ears and he sat down across from me, subtly bouncing his leg in anticipation for me to hear the final version of this track. From anyone working in the studio that had the chance to hear it, this one was going to be big. It was attention-getting, visceral, impossible to step away from, and (in some people’s opinions) downright vulgar. I tried to hold no expectations nor carry any weight of those perspectives in my mind as I waited for the track to start playing through the headphones. There was an ambient sort of cough that immediately led into a driving riff and I was instantly taken aback, already feeling the music have a strong effect over me in just the first few seconds.

Then came the vocals: commanding, but not cruel or demeaning, and pouring right into my ears with a taste of a desperate rasp in the words. The bass thumped like a pulse, reaching right to the depth of my heartbeat and through my veins like it was trying to infiltrate my whole body with subtlety. Various timbres of hits on drum skins or crashing cymbals were the groundwork, cooperating with all the other elements to ascend, hush, race, and accentuate their intricacies. Eerie, whispering cries of the theremin mimicked a voice in a state of frenzy, utter chaos and bliss combined to mirror Robert’s whines. I could almost see all of their faces in-performance, lost in the energy of their own playing and the sensations weaving through their own bodies whilst creating such Dionysian music.

The chorus of wild vocalizations bounced from ear to ear, starting to accelerate and get higher up into my head like an orgasm about to crash. It relaxed for a moment -- a moment to catch your breath and calm down before the song kicked into full intensity for its end. Complete loss of contact before that emphatic voice declared that the listener needed love, a physical love, their love. My own breath was aligned to the shifting rhythm of the song like there was an instinctual connection even at this first listen. Every sense was sparked as the band roared back to life with a thunderbolt of the drums and the now-familiar riff returning to my ears. There was a final ascent, growing distant as the vocals cried out and fell conclusively.

My whole body felt like it was buzzing and I was aching for more. I took my headphones off with surprisingly heavy breaths flowing through my lungs. Gazing to my intrigued partner across from me, his long-awaited question finally came:

“So, how was it?”


	134. sweet talker (david coverdale x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: brunet david coverdale x fem!reader  
> Warnings: a little nsfw
> 
> yes i definitely used valentine's day as an excuse to write this

“You know, I’m more than happy with your decision to stay in... but are you sure?” David inquired, again, as he looked up from the stack of records on the floor. 

I looked up from the book in my lap with an amused face and reassured him: “I promise that I’m sure, David. You know I don’t care for all those cliched, saccharine gestures. I’m just happy that we’re at home, together, whether or not there’s a holiday. Besides, I don’t think any public place will be too happy if I stay dressed like this and I’m too comfortable to change clothes.”

My hand sweepingly gestured towards the loose slip dress over my frame and the short, unfastened robe cloaking my shoulders. 

“That’s a fair point and I wouldn’t mind at all if you remained dressed like that for the rest of the day.” He remarked with a deep undertone and discreet sweep of his eyes.

With a roll of my eyes, I turned my attention back to the book I was reading and shifted positions on the sofa so my legs were stretched all the way out. I felt like a spoiled housecat, lying around through the afternoon in pajamas without a care for responsibilities, far too many snacks within an arm’s length on the coffee table-top, and getting lost in books while David’s records were playing in the background as he sorted through them. Silvery mid-winter sunlight streamed in through the large windows with piles of melting snow still lacing the edges of naked tree branches and along the barren ground. My cup of tea had cooled off entirely by the time I finished my third book, rousing me from my lazy repose on the sofa to the kitchen until a hand caught me by the wrist -- its owner effectively catching my attention and keeping it with his promising little coy grin. 

I raised my brows and tried to stop myself from reflecting his smile, “What?”

“Stay there a moment.” He requested, releasing his hand from me and slowly letting his eyes work their way from the floor up to my eyes and his smile only getting gradually wider. “You’re a vision, darling.”

I scoffed and continued on my way to the kitchen with a smile I couldn’t fight off, placing my empty cup in the sink. The music changed as I walked back to my seat, languidly stretching back into a position of leisure and the seat on the floor by my ankles being taken a moment later. My eyes purposely and studiously returned to the pages of a new book. Though the gentle touch grazing along the outside of my calves was certainly a valid distraction. When I didn’t pay any mind to the provoking sensation, it progressed further up my leg and teased inwards with the tickle of long hair trailing it. My eyes peeked over the edge of the book to spot David leaning over my knees, a pleading pout to his lips and slightly suggestive glimmer to his golden brown eyes. He didn’t need to say a single word, I knew what proposition was already on his mind; the stack of records had been sorted through and he had no other plans for the day. 

“Y/N…?” He began, his already-sultry voice somehow even more tempting as he spoke.

“Yes, David?” 

“You know, even if we aren’t going out to celebrate Valentine’s Day, we could always mark the occasion with another, far more private tradition… or ‘ritual’ if you like.” 

“Sounds intriguing, I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly be hinting at.” 

“Would you prefer a demonstration or a detailed explanation? I’ll warn you that they both involve an element of something oral.” 

I bit the inside of my cheek and felt a ripple of heat unfurling through my whole abdomen, his insinuations irresistibly awakening my sleepy senses from the drowsiness of the rest of the day. The false innocence in his gaze, paired with the devilish nature of his words and tone, coaxed an easy approval from me. Victory only slightly tainted his features with a smugness as he slowly made his way up to the sofa over me and started by planting a kiss to my lips as an initiation to whatever dubious plans were mentally set to follow. It also provided him an opportunity to stealthily sweep the touch of his hands up to my mid-thighs, right at the hem of my slip, and lingering lower so his mouth was then parallel to them. They gently eased my legs apart, his lips pressing to my skin and smoothly trailing upwards while his eyes angelically remained steadfast with mine. He backed off for a moment, re-starting back at my knee but with a different purpose this time. 

A firmer kiss pressed to my skin followed by a remark: “I love watching you reading, all the inflections of your reaction to the words show so plainly on your lovely face.”

I opened my mouth to thank him or otherwise make a comment on his observative nature, only to be shushed as he continued on his way up with a new reflection. This time he affectionately pointed out exactly where my smile causes crinkles: framing my eyes, bordering the edges of my lips, and crossing the bridge of my nose. Then it was my bashful humming or quiet singing of songs he was involved with, admitting a guilty pleasure in causing that my flushed reaction to him noticing me in the act. At the top of my one thigh, he concluded with how indescribably beautiful my uninhibited, lost-to-pleasure expression and actions were, muttering lowly that he hoped to coax it from me by the end of the day at least three times. One teasing kiss landed in the middle of the opposite thigh, only with a simple “I love you” to accompany it before truly finishing the journey up. My frame was already completely eased back against the sofa, but my muscles stiffened the moment his mouth met the center of both thighs. 

My hand grasped tightly at the plush surface beneath me, then eased its tension of the initial surprise as it lingered to rake through the chestnut waves replacing where the hem of my slip had been. I felt David’s warm, dark chuckle at my bewilderment and at the gesture that I knew from experience would only encourage him further. He advised me to relax a bit, smoothing his palms down the inner line of my tensed legs down to the sides of my knees. It also effectively spread them wider, all the easier to access exactly where he wanted to be with. I was almost trembling already -- the feeling of his skillful tongue like a more humane touch of lava or uncooling candle wax against me. My head helplessly rolled back as I tugged on his hair for some semblance of holding onto control or stability. It only made things worse, forcing a hum from the back of his throat that I could feel against my sensitive heat when I was already so close to the edge and dripping into his mouth. 

Just as I felt my chest tighten and a breath catch in my throat, everything froze. He drew back with a slick glaze over his chin and swollen, smirking, lips then feigned innocence at my frustration: “What’s wrong, Y/N? I thought you might enjoy a rest from those books, maybe a change of scenery will do the trick?”

Before I could make a stony rebuttal, he tugged me up by the hand and pulled me down the hall as I stumbled over my steps. Pushing open the desired doorway, his strong arm acted like a crook around my torso and slung me right over the edge of the bed -- right back into the same position as a moment before only now we were both a bit more breathless at his windswept demeanor. 

“I think that’s much better.” He grinned proudly, the bewilderment evident on my face again. 

“I don’t care where we are in the house as long as you let me finish.” I bristled back, propped up on my elbows with my brows raised in expectation. 

“Of course, darling, that’s the point. Now how would you like me?” The singer appealed with a more hospitable veil over his face. “Fingers, tongue, or- ?” 

“I don’t care, just do it.” I groaned, flopping down entirely onto my back in impatience.

“First, we should get these little obstacles out of the way.” He commented to himself, plucking at the flimsy material of my slip and lifting it up as a hint. 

The rest of his fingers grasped at the hem, peeling it off me as I shifted to his convenience and tugged off any other layers that covered even an inch of my skin. The fabric was tossed to the side carelessly and David dove in towards me again, my legs crossed behind the top of his back as his lips latched on vigorously to provide the stimulation I was starting to regret asking for. His hands ran along my sides and down the curve of my hips, holding me up to his suckling mouth. I fisted at the sheets across the width of the bed, trying not to joltingly tilt my hips up to him, and my heavy breathing changing into a drawn-out moan that slipped between my parted lips. All I could feel was what he was doing to me, literally with his touch and through my invigorated senses that felt like a rising tide threatening to come up over my head. However, all I could think of was how glad I was to have discovered and experienced the extent of his mouth’s talents. 

“Shit, David… mmm, I’m almost there already,” I gasped, trying to keep control of my body’s impulses.

“Then let go for me, love.” He encouraged, his warm breath landing over me.

A clouded breath shuddered through my lungs and throat, resulting in a whimpered cry as a golden warmth flooded my abdomen. His pleased hum at my pouring release onto his tongue and his soft brown eyes meeting mine, a new wave of arousal already uncoiling. I didn’t think of myself as insatiable, but it was different with David who could restore all my expended energy with a single sly look or euphemism-laced remark. The moment I recovered my breath, I reached to pull him up to me by the shirt and kissed him harshly, not accepting any resistance -- not that I encountered any from an impassioned David who reached his hands to frame my face adoringly, tilting my chin up to him when he repositioned himself over me. 

“I love when you get this fervent with me but I regret that I can’t taste you anymore after that.” The pouted against my lips, stroking a hand gently across my forehead. 

“You’re more than welcome to do it again.” I suggested. “Though I do think I should return the favor, baby, what do you think?”

He raised his brows and a twist of a smile curled at the edges of his mouth, shrugging acceptingly. The bed dipped beside me and his hands pulled me over him by the upper arms, my leg smoothly slinging over his hips. I reached to the zipper of his jeans and he helpfully shimmied right out of them then pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Mimicking his process from before, I formed a trail with my lips but along his neck and all the way down his chest while my hand pressed to his hip bone, cautiously following the V that led to my ultimate destination. His exhaled sigh took the form of a deep rumble that I could feel as I leaned over to kiss his lips, starting to mirror another one of his gestures from before.

“I adore that silly snarl you make sometimes when you’re singing.”

Then I moved to his throat. 

“Then there’s your voice -- the powerful vocals that everyone knows or the sultry, eloquent, cigarette-and-Scotch-soaked speaking voice that can make me cum without you even touching me.”

Then I skipped to his taut abdomen.

“The rosy flush on your face when my mouth or hands are right about here.” 

I began to hover a tad lower, my hands lingering down his sides and then leaning down with my tongue peeking out between my parted lips. Just the tip of it made contact with his heated skin, running lightly up his torso and curling back up when I reached his chest. His eyes were fixated and his mouth was open, desperation threaded through his emotive, dark brows. I knew what he thought I would do, but that result would be delayed by another few moments as I softened to a more sentimental mood. 

My kiss was planted at his sternum and drew back for my last remark: “Most importantly -- your kind, imaginative, passionate, loving, indescribably beautiful heart… that I can feel thumping like a galloping horse in my ear right now.” 

The both of us burst into stifled laughter, entwined together and ending the sweeter mood with a chaste collision of our lips.

“Now let’s finish this celebration ritual of yours.” I demanded with a smile and playfully narrowed eyes.


	135. seamstress for the guitarist (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x seamstress!reader  
> Warnings: uh the teeniest hint of nsfw but not really

request: "I know you’re always super full with requests. If you could do something along the lines of this when ever you get a second would be highly appropriated, I’m such a fan of yours! Silver fox Jimmy. He’s visiting a village, and while browsing the record shops see’s a clothing shop. Finds something in the wrong size and asks for his own. He’s told there’s a seamstress upstairs (reader). When he’s telling her about the records he bought, is shocked and impressed to find out she is well-versed of the blues. And in the end he asks he on a date ❤️❤️"

“Y/N! Are you able to come down here and help this gentleman?” A ground salesman called around the hallway where my little work studio was. 

“Sure, one moment.” I answered and stood up from measuring out a stiff wool suit cardigan behind my desk, mentally making a note to watch out for the pins later. 

I followed the call down to the main sales area, columns of sophisticated evening- and crisp business-wear lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It was fairly quiet, even for a weekday afternoon with maybe two people meandering the pristine granite floor. The trim salesman smiled warmly upon my entrance and gestured me over to the “gentleman” he was referring to -- dressed sharply in black, pale silver hair neatly tied back in a ponytail, a gentle upwards quirk to his rosy lips, youthfully vibrant jade-colored eyes, wise wrinkles framing the edges of his face like the soft-textured lines of book pages, and a quietly confident stance to his posture. Suddenly I felt much less begrudged by being called out of my work. 

“Hello, how can I help you?” I asked, a touch more genuine emphasis to my customer service voice.

“Hi, I’m wondering if this style of pants comes in black and in my size?” He requested. 

“Of course! I’m the seamstress, so I can make them exactly to your measurements and with whatever other specifications you’d like.” 

His smile widened at the information, “How soon would you be able to do measurements and all?”

“Right now if it’s convenient to you.” 

“Oh, that’s perfect!” He exclaimed, moving to my side away rather than with the salesman who’d helped him earlier.

Following my lead back down the hall, he stepped softly behind me and into my studio. He stood up onto the podium before the trifold, full-size mirrors as though he’d been familiar with the process. I assumed he had either attended plenty of high-class events with black-tie dress codes or participated in some kind of theatrical work that involved costuming. The room remained silent for just a few moments while I retrieved a notepad and my measuring utensils, allowing him a moment to change into the far-too-loose trousers he picked off the racks.

“You’ve done this before?” I questioned as he positioned himself perfectly just before I could make a remark.

“Many times.” He winked at the double entendre. 

“I wouldn’t guess that you were a suit model, so was it acting or managing some massive business endeavor?” I pressed gently, a pin between my teeth as I pinched together the pant material.

“A bit of both -- musician.” 

“I see… Now, how’s that for width at the calf and length?” 

Our eyes met in the reflection of the center mirror and his gaze seemed to stray from just the makeshift tailoring of the trouser hem. I admonished myself for thinking of something so ridiculous, moving up the rest of the leg to fix pins into place per his will. His hand brushed across my head while I was getting up from my kneeling position and I pursed my lips, knowing that it was just an accident that happened all the time. I spurred the conversation onwards to dispel the tension in my nerves that was making me delusionally read too much into this barely-fifteen-minutes-long encounter.

My eyes shifted to the filled plastic bag he’d set down on an upholstered chair: “What kind of records do you have in that bag over there?” 

“Oh, some rarities of the old blues legends that inspired me to play.” He smiled with a quiet childish delight at his findings. “Y’know, Skip James and Blind Willie Johnson. There’s even one limited press of Sister Rosetta Tharpe.”

My eyes fell wide, “Really? Those are incredible finds, you’re so well-versed.” 

“I was so consumed by all of it when I was younger, it was all I could do to study and get better at playing. Sort of like studying from textbooks but for a musician.” He elaborated bashfully.

“That’s such a beautiful way to look at it.” I smiled, then turning away at the realization that I was supposed to be working rather than chatting about interests.

The pins lined all the way up the trouser legs at just the right, adjusted, width. My movements were almost robotic with the muscle memory of having done this several times before, especially in avoidance of the shop’s delicately embroidered gowns that took twice as long to tailor than any set of trousers. Each of the difficult little stitches and looped threads came out perfectly after ages of unhappy practice in the past. However, I froze after pinning the waistline and remembering what the next step was. The strict methodology of my usual process was broken, likely just my own delusions playing with my mind. I tried to hide any inflictions of my demeanor as I shifted to crouch between his knees. 

“Do you mind?” I gestured vaguely with two pins in between my teeth.

He glanced down, the friendliness veiled by a sheen of distance now, and questioned my inquiry: “I’m not sure I understand, sorry. What are you asking about?”

I cleared my throat, “Um… well, I need to finish up and the girth measurement is all I have left to do before double-checking how they look.”

There was a little flicker of a smile that returned to his lips. “Oh, of course I don’t mind. It’s your job, so please, do what you need to do.” 

The reply didn’t bring my assurity back. I took the tape measure higher up with an apprehensive breath stuck in my chest as I brought it into measuring position, right up along the in-seam and drawing it tauter into place. My fingers were a lot lighter than they normally were when I went through measurements and my lips were pursed as I tried to coldly focus on just getting this done. Shit, I felt like my hands were shaking. The measuring tape was in place and I had to reaffirm it by feel, my hand palming over the material to fasten it just right. Though I knew I wasn’t entirely delusional when there was a shift against the touch of my hand. I distinctly and undoubtedly felt him press into my palm, which lingered a moment too long before my fingers retrieved a pin from between my teeth. 

“Does that feel alright?” I asked softly after clearing my throat.

“A lot more than alright.” 

I felt a heat rush up over my face and ears, swiftly setting the last pin into place then quietly announcing that I was nearly finished with a step back to check over my work. He stood tall for me and I forced my eyes to stay focused on how I’d adjusted the trouser fit. After straightening a few spots closer to the hem, I finally stood back up and dared to look back to his face with a cautious tone informing him that I was done. I took the measuring tape up off where I left it half-curled on the floor and took it back to my desk, keeping my back turned away while instructing my client to be very careful with the pins as he changed back into his own clothes.

The sound of his footsteps informed me that he was dressed and ready to go, but not leaving quite yet. I finished noting down my measurement notes that I memorized mentally just in case the pins fell out of place, then turned to face him expectantly. Usually, I’d get a quick thank you and a question for when to pick up the finished product. But I could see something different underlying his expression. He took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, a bit of apprehension holding him back for a few seconds before his voice came.

“Y/N, I have a question for you.”

“Sure, ask away. If it’s about the trousers, they should be done within a week and I can call you when they’re done if you want them sooner.”

He chuckled, “No that isn’t what I was going to ask. But thank you for your very thorough work, I appreciate the attention to detail and the time you took with me.”

“Of course, it’s my job and might as well do it right.”

“...and my question was if you’d like to come to dinner with me.” 

A silence followed. Not because I was unsure of the answer I wanted to give him, but because I was so taken aback. My heartbeat was starting to thump in my ears as heat rose to my face and I tried to come up with some eloquent, coy way to reply. His stony, waiting expression was eased by the smile I couldn’t fight off my lips. 

“Is that a ‘yes’...?” He started for me. 

“Sorry, yeah… I was just surprised that you asked but I’d love to.” 

Like the sunshine breaking through the gloom of a grey day a youthful, pleased grin changed his entire expression with a warm glow. I didn’t bother trying to quiet the interest I had in him and the adoring thoughts that came into my mind. It was so exciting, unbelievable really. There were so many ideas flooding my mind, picturing what the evening would look like or his kind charm on full display. Before I could get too whisked away into a fantasy world, he took my two hands into his and brought me back into reality to continue the conversation. 

“I’m delighted to hear that, love. When shall I pick you up?”


	136. you are in love (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '73 Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: none

request: "I have a request if you don’t mind! Can you do some sort of fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “you are in love” with ‘73ish jimmy? If you don’t want to, no worries!! Thanks! ☺️"

We were sitting in the wild tresses of the mid-summer grass, looking out at the rippling reflection of the sky in the lake and drifting through conversations as easily as the cool breeze that blew through our hair. There were both too many things to say that we couldn’t even find where to begin discussing the past month: I had to come back home from traveling with him and get back to my own work while he finished up the tour. A quiet understanding passed between us, him having come home in the dead of night just two days before and still getting used to a more static lifestyle. The gentleness of the weather seemed to encourage a relaxed setting as we leaned back against our palms, side-by-side and perfectly content when another silence faded at the end of yet another light discussion. 

I looked to him as his lips parted a few moments later, the words having caught on his tongue when my eyes expectantly met his shining jade ones. But a forced, full breath through his nose gave him the courage to vocalize his heavier thoughts: “I meant what I said the other night. You probably thought I was exhausted or not really thinking clearly, but I really did mean it.” 

Our stares remained connected as my mind instantly recalled the moment he was referring to and couldn’t quite the words to respond yet. It was like a snapshot from a film but as clear in my memory as the minute it happened. He kept a bedside lamp on, its stained glass cover reflecting tints of blue and red onto the wall behind it, while I lied down at his side with my head sinking down into the softness of the pillows. He was still sitting up and shifted to mirror my position, his features weary yet restless through the darkness of the room. He shut off the lamp then settled down beside me in an effort to force himself into shifting his sleeping schedule. It was completely silent -- I started to gladly drift off at this late hour as drowsiness weighed over my eyes. 

But then the lamp came on again and Jimmy sat up abruptly. I blinked a few times to let my eyes adjust to the light before looking to him inquisitively. There was a frame of worry around his eyes and knitting his dark brows closer this time. A jolt ran through me -- I’d never seen this sort of look on his face before. Worry over technicalities relating to his work was more determined. Something else was going on, but as I was about to ask him about it he answered me. His faraway gaze fell on me with a strong intensity and he seemed to soften just a little when his voice sleepily spoke. 

“I-I think I love you Y/N… I’ve never been so affected by anyone before and I don’t know what to do about it, it almost scares me.” 

A warmth pooled in my stomach but I pursed my lips, not able to fully believe him in the moment and afraid of accepting his confession only to find it a spur-of-the-moment thing that he didn’t truly mean. I gave him a gentle smile and smoothed over his shoulder, hoping to ease his mind so he could relax into falling asleep. Jimmy kept his focused gaze on me, only growing more and more concerned with each passing second of my silence. His hand reached towards mine in hopes to coax a reply from me. 

“Jimmy, I think you need to get some sleep.” I smiled and tried to get him to lie down. “I love being with you too, darling, but I think you should catch up on rest before you say anything like that.”

“But, Y/N- ”

“Please Jimmy, it’s so late and you probably don’t know what you’re saying right now.” I assured, finally convincing him to turn off the light then lie down beside me. 

Neither of us seemed able to fall asleep though. I could tell by the way he was still breathing and how he shifted around every so often in an attempt to get comfortable. He settled with his arms loosely around my torso and his face resting at the crook of my neck. My own arms cloaked his shoulders, one resting flat on his back and the other combing the wavy hair away from his cheek. I was trying to debate whether or not I could trust his urgent statement, given the circumstances, and kept drawing up new arguments to convince myself not to believe it quite yet no matter how much I wanted it to be true. The rhythm of our breaths slowed together when the first silvery light of the new day started to filter between the curtains and we forced ourselves out of our thoughts to fall asleep for just a few hours. 

Though he was clear-minded now, undoubtedly so with a few night’s rests and the weariness fading from his eyes. Jimmy did remember… and he meant it. My heart swelled and I looked away in timidity, unable to stop my smile as I observed the little blue wildflowers in the grass near my legs. I first gave myself a moment to selfishly savor the meaning of his confession. But I turned to the unnerved Jimmy at my side to give him an answer since I certainly hadn’t given him an adequate reply the last time. There was almost a desperation glowing through his green irises. 

“I was hoping you would say that again and really mean it, not have the excuse of sleep deprivation to wave it off the next morning when you had your wits about you.”

“And… ?”

“And I love you too.” I chuckled, resolving the tension that had rendered his frame rigid until both of us were crinkly-eyed and smiling at one another. 

“I was hoping you’d say that. Finally.” 

“I honestly don’t think I’d ever thought of anyone as often as I do of you. And over such silly things! I kept thinking about that time you were so sleepy and distracted by a haze of creativity when you were writing a song for the last album that you had almost a childlike confused wonder about you. I think you bumped into a door frame at least three times that day and kept forgetting what your notations meant.” 

He gave me a teasing glare at the mention of how helpless he could be during his stages of creation when he was in way too deep. 

“It’s like I could still imagine you being nearby and then I would look to say something and you weren’t there. Like there was a ghost of you still following me around throughout the day because I was so used to you being nearby and missed you so badly.”

He sighed, “I know exactly what you mean. G kept giving me funny looks because I’d turn to the side of the stage or behind me as we walked through airports and parties. Sometimes I’d still think you were near me whenever I was alone in my hotel room, thinking that you were still there to while away the rest of the night with me.” 

I gave him a look but pulled him closer by the hand so I could kiss his cheek. Nothing else needed to be said given the content smiles on our faces and how we leaned in towards each other, resuming the relaxed survey of our natural surroundings. There seemed to be a rosy blush through the sunny afternoon setting while we nostalgically recounted other small, private moments between each other until our cheeks and sides hurt from laughing. And until he made a particularly devilish remark that resulted in a demurely-welcoming gaze in response, then him sweeping me up from our seats in the field in an impassioned, impulsive race back inside the house.


	137. mile high club (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: silver fox!jimmy page x younger fem!reader  
> Warnings: very nsfw

request: "heyy girl :) i love your stories! i'd like to ask a jimmy silver fox smut, the girl loses her virginity (he doesn't have to be that kind) thank you!"

Jimmy had his arm crooked over my shoulders wearing a sharp, well-tailored black suit over his slim frame and dark Fendi sunglasses. We were several thousand feet in the air on a privately hired plane with all sorts of distractions to while away the long flight and the luxury of almost complete privacy. I found myself in a wild dream -- like my senses somehow deceived me into thinking that this was really happening around me. The disbelief only built when he coaxed me onto his lap and tilted his head up to whisper an idea into my ear, his lips softly grazing over my skin with every other word. 

“You know, there is a private room in the back if you’d like to lie down for a little while.” 

I nodded, escaping the wide-fingered grasp over my ass to rise from the spacious seats and letting him lead the way back. In the far rear of the plane was indeed a private room - a full bedroom with a sleek design, small bouquets of fresh flowers lightening up the room, and other homey decor that made it look like we’d stepped back into a hotel rather than the rear of a plane. Jimmy lit a few of the candles on the bedside table then used one of their flames to light up a cigarette he was using to calm his flying nerves and reclined himself over the bed with a beckoning nod towards me. I sat down cautiously at the foot of his bed, leaning towards his outstretched legs and looking down at the feet of his shined leather shoes. He tilted my chin over to face him with the hook of his finger and requested that I join him up towards the head of the bed. Crawling towards him, I lied back against the pillows beside him and he swiftly switched places on me. 

Removing the cigarette from his mouth momentarily, he elaborated with swirls of smoke curling from between his lips: “You know, as funny as it may seem, I really despise flying. These flights just get so dull even with all the things they offer to make it more pleasant. I’m glad you joined me here so I think you deserve a reward or gesture of my gratitude, yes?”

I smiled, pulling my legs up towards my frame and mumbled that he didn’t really have to go to any trouble for such a silly little thing. 

“Such a sweet girl, now I simply have to… and I’ve got a perfect idea for how to go about it.” He implied with a reach of his hands to my ankles and drawing them out to each side of his propped-up elbows.

I went along with his motions just to confirm if my suspicions were correct, realizing that his touch was lingering up along the inside of my legs and spreading them further to allow him more access. It was like a snake slithering higher towards me with a darting tongue over his lips, sparking an anticipation and nervous energy that kept me frozen in place. His open mouth went in for the kill, striking at my thigh and trailing upwards with gently biting steps while his hands hitched my skirt higher up my torso. The warmth of his breath made my senses tingle and I almost drew back from him to stop any further stimulation when this was already too much. I didn’t recoil, but I did stop him another way.

“Jimmy, I need to tell you something.” I warned in a rushed sentence.

His eyes met mine as he halted in place, an inch away from the tops of my thighs, “What’s that, love?”

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” I confessed. 

“What do you mean, Y/N? In a plane?”

“No… in general. I’ve kissed before but that’s it.” 

His brows raised and he took another puff of smoke, the cigarette between his lips as he spoke: “I find that very hard to believe… you mean a charming, absolutely lovely, and silver-tongued little girl like you has never actually made love before?”

I looked away from him and nodded. “But I want you to keep going.”

“Well, I’ll just have to be gentle with you, won’t I?” 

I smiled, “We’ll see about that. I may not have the experience to back it up, but I think I’ve heard enough about rougher things to know if I’d like trying them.” 

The lopsided grin that put a twinkle in his eyes told me that he was more than happy to venture in that direction if I allowed it. Jimmy’s clever green eyes remained fixed on mine from the top edge of his sunglasses as he dipped his lips back down over my skin, continuing his upwards path exactly where he’d left off. His curled finger pulled the thin strip of already-soaked fabric covering his desired destination and I nearly tensed at the warmth of his breath against me. But that feeling was incomparable to the electrifying touch of his plush lips and exploring tongue. I helplessly clutched at the blankets and collapsed back against the pillows, tension clenching all my muscles then braiding through my abdomen with every lick. 

As the cigarette between his fingers started to burn out, its ashes fell onto my thigh and burned slightly over my skin. I whimpered at the painful yet surprisingly arousing sensation. The sound beckoned Jimmy from his position and I whined when he stopped, my muscles relaxing slightly as I looked to his concerned expression.

“What’s wrong? You sounded hurt… did I do something?” 

“No, your cigarette ashes…” I elaborated between labored breaths.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry about that, love. I should’ve put it out bef- ”

“No, no… I liked it.” 

The concern melted away into a pleased smirk, “You little minx. So, you really wouldn’t mind if I put it out on you?”

“No, please do it.” 

He leaned down and flatly licked a stripe up my center, meeting my gaze as he finished the gesture then lowered the lit end of the cigarette against my upper thigh. It certainly burned and I felt a twinge of stinging pain from it but, just as quickly, the feeling dissolved into a pleasure that brought a satisfied moan at the base of my throat. Jimmy tossed the cigarette to the side when it was fully put out and pressed his gentle lips to the spot to soothe the sting away. The finger hooked around the edge of my panties ripped them gruffly around my knees, diving back in between my legs with a new vigor and now letting his long middle finger delve into me. It prodded cautiously against my wall, exploring carefully as though searching for something. With just the tiniest shift of his prodding touch, I gasped and my eyes fell open wide towards him in utter surprise that I could feel such an intense bliss from such a simple brush of his fingertip. 

“H-How did you…?”

“Practice.” He answered with a smug nonchalance before withdrawing his finger and popping it into his mouth to clean it off. “You certainly taste sweeter than I imagined, though your sweet looks are very deceiving.”

I smiled at the compliment then grabbed at the lapels of his jacket and tugged him up towards me to plant a kiss on his lips. Though Jimmy was intent on testing my boundary between gentleness and roughness -- coaxing my mouth to open against his and his teeth closing down on my lower lip with a gradual bite almost hard enough to draw blood. My whimper was stifled by his mouth and he let go abruptly. His hands clenched at the hem of my shirt and urgently pulled it up over my head to toss it sideways, making contact at the newly exposed skin with his nipping teeth. He began delicately then bit down harder, his hands grasping over my bra while his mouth did its best to mark up as much of my skin as possible. It was like the burning sting of his cigarette before, only immediately soothed by his plush lips. I tangled my fingers through his no-longer-neat ponytail of pale greyed hair and tugged with the same fervor of his mouth.

“Are you still sure about this, Y/N?” He questioned sternly after pressing a final kiss to my sternum. 

“Yes, and I meant it when I said you don’t have to be gentle.” 

“I’ve caught onto that last bit, darling.” He smiled with a light laugh. “But stop me at any time, just say ‘no’ at anything that you don’t want to do or continue.” 

I nodded and his hands expertly removed the rest of my clothes before allowing me to push the jacket off his shoulders. Our hands met to unbutton the crisp black dress shirt underneath it as he remained kneeling at my thighs. He unfastened the remaining restraints of his black trousers and pushed them down his legs until they were carelessly lying on the floor with the rest of the clothing. A jolt of adrenaline made my heart hammer in my chest when he turned to me again, the anticipation at an all-time high with what I knew was sure to come now. His usually gentlemanly nature would be long gone while he took me to the highest kind of ecstasy, and my guilty fantasies about him would come to fruition before my eyes. Jimmy placed his sunglasses down at the bedside table and propped himself over me cautiously, still giving me plenty of time to refuse him even though that was the last thing on my mind. 

“Jimmy?”

“Yes?” The concern in his features made it clear that he believed I was second-guessing this after all. 

“Would you tie me up please?” 

I noticed his body’s physical reaction and tormented expression before he gave me an answer: “Fuck, darling, of course. Just give me a moment to grab a few things.” 

He sighed deeply, as if overwhelmed, and walked over to fetch a few of the scarves he packed for the trip. One was fastened at each of my ankles and wrists, just loose enough not to be painful or cause too noticeable marks but tight enough to keep me in place. This compromised positioning and the thought of what was soon to come caused heat to ripple through my abdomen. The wanton pride on Jimmy’s face only intensified the feeling, making me feel like I was burning under my skin and starting to pull at my restraints already as a sign that I couldn’t stand another minute without his touch. 

“You look so lovely all on display like this, Y/N. Anything else you’d like to request?” 

“Anything you want to do, Jimmy.” 

“What I want most right now is to make you see exactly what you’ve been missing and make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.” 

With that final declaration, he leaned in closer until his body shielded mine and our faces were a mere inch apart. There was a searching concern in his eyes when he began to tilt his hips into mine, his one hand guiding his tip to my entrance and his lips brushed against mine as he instructed me to relax my stomach several times. I felt a pressure and some discomfort, tightening my grip around the silky fabric by my wrists when a breath caught in my lungs. Jimmy hushed me lovingly amidst his pushing further into me, reassuringly insisting that it would be alright and I would just need to be patient for a moment until it became more comfortable. 

As I felt his low abdomen and hip bones collide with my tensed frame, he softly spoke: “Such a good girl, you’ve been so patient and got through the worst of it. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, it just feels… different. Not painful, just full like a stretch and a little uncomfortable.” 

His reaction was endeared and he brushed a hand along the side of my cheek, “I’m glad I’m not hurting you. Is it okay if I move?” 

“Please, and you don’t have to act like I’m made of glass or something. I’ll tell you if it starts to hurt.” 

He gave me a final delicate kiss, “Brave girl.”

Jimmy withdrew slightly, still not quite believing that I could handle more past this gentle tactic, giving me a moment to breathe before a sharp push back into me and I gasped -- I was starting to feel more of the pleasure starting to tingle within me rather than bring back any discomfort. When he did it again, a deep moan hummed from my open mouth. The third or fourth time, my hips started to meet his pace and he gave me a surprised look at how quickly I seemed to catch on. It gave him a new boldness to fulfill my wishes, the carefulness in his demeanor turning into a suave confidence and allowing himself to test my boundaries again. His hips would drive a little harder, his hands fervently grasped at my waist or the side of my face, his lips captured mine desperately, his pleasure was vocalized in a rasped moan or vulgar remark rather than the softhearted tone he had earlier. 

But it wasn’t enough and I felt vehemently greedy enough to demand it: “Is this really the best you can do, Jimmy?” 

“Fucking hell, girl, do you know what you’re asking for?”

“I told you to do your worst.” 

“Fine, if that’s how you want it.” He almost spat, lifting me briskly by the curve of my back to harshly smack my ass and completely pull away from me to seek out another device.

I took the break to catch my breath, still feeling the stinging slap on my rear and the dull discomfort starting to linger within me. My muscles slowly began to untense too, finally letting me completely lie back over the mussed blankets and a light sheen of sweat cool my body. The race of my heartbeat and the adrenaline in my veins made me feel almost hypersensitive to any sensation that I felt. It was truly unbelievable, a fantasy come to life and even better than I could’ve imagined myself. He was impossibly caring, but more than willing to flip a switch on demand and focused on delivering pleasure to the receiver. 

After rifling through a hidden pocket in his luggage, he returned to his former position with two of his black hair ties and a coiled leather belt in his other hand; he was certainly creative when he wasn’t equipped with all of his usual resources. The belt was placed at my side while he started with the hair ties. His outstretched hand grasped around one of my breasts, the hair tie around the other hand’s fingers nimbly twisted it as low as possible around the peak. The motion was repeated on the other and I felt the constant pinch as his one hand drifted down to my hip while the other massaged over my clit to provide some stimulation during his repositioning process. With only a brief prod, Jimmy slipped his whole length back into me with a single motion. 

My eyes shut as I relished the blissful feeling, “Fuck, Jimmy… that feels so good.”

“Mm, and so do you.” He replied with a low hum. “It’s even better with your angel face asking me to defile you like this.” 

His perfect words had as strong of an effect as the movement of his cock inside me. My cries started to grow louder as I felt myself coming closer to release, only rushing faster with his thumb rubbing circles over my clit. My desperation wasn’t unnoticed by him and he wanted to propel it onwards, reaching for the wound belt at my side with the buckle clutched in his hand. He continued to fuck me, slowing his rhythm slightly to pay more attention to the drawing back of the belt before he struck my abdomen and chest with it. I whimpered, feeling like I was almost there on the precipice for a moment before the sting wore off. He responded with a cold snicker as though to taunt me for demanding such things and my reactions being so helpless when he’d just started with fulfilling them. It caused a ripple of arousal that made me tug at my restraints and lean closer into him. 

“Is this what you wanted? Or is it still not enough for you, my greedy little girl?”

I gave him a pathetic whine in reply, instead confessing that I was close. 

“Aww it’s too much for you… but I’ll be generous and let you cum. Let go for me, Y/N.”

He tossed the belt off to the side and refocused all his attention to the isolated movement of his hips, pushing all the way forward then back while his heated frame leaned down against mine. I could feel the cool sweat on his forehead as it touched mine and his parted lips released heavy exhales against my mouth. It was like a fire was burning all around us -- drying the air, making it feel heavy in our lungs, and our skin temperature rising up with its heat. The dancing flames were infiltrating my veins and making my racing pulse beat harder against my chest while the intensifying pleasure in my abdomen was growing into a wildfire. My senses went into a blinding white-hot sensation, utterly burned out and awash with ecstasy. I didn’t even hear myself crying his name without abandon until the heat eased away and my senses returned to consciousness. 

Jimmy forced himself to stop, pulling away to let me recover while his hand wrapped around his length to finish himself off. My eyes weakly remained open, feeling an overwhelming arousal at the sight even though I felt so drained and my body was limply held up only by the silky restraints. His head was tilted up, eyes shut tight, his mouth fallen open as he muttered hushed profanities, and brows knit in desperation. I began trying to sit up, my mouth lolling open with my tongue resting over my bottom lip in anticipation. Jimmy groaned when he glanced down at my waiting stature, shaking his head and assuring me that he had other plans. Streams of sticky, hot cum spurted with each pump of his fisted hand onto my lower abdomen, over my flooding center, and even onto the insides of my thighs. 

“Shiiiiiittttt…” He groaned with finality, sitting back with exhaustion and moaning at the state of defilement he left me in. “Oh, angel, you’re absolutely perfect.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. For the compliment and, well, everything else.” 

He smiled and quirked his brows up provocatively, shifting down at my side and pressing a kiss to my lips with his hand under my chin. “Would you like me to clean you up?”

“In a few minutes, I like having you right next to me like this.” 

He nodded in understanding and grinned at a thought: “I forgot to mention this earlier, but welcome to the mile-high club. And your first time.


	138. all or nothing (david coverdale x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '79 David Coverdale x fem!reader  
> Warnings: just nsfw, no plot
> 
> please pardon my thirst, combined with the song sweet talker, that resulted in this utter smut

The band had a day-long break between performances in New York, starting with a brief meeting in the manager’s room in the late morning since the last night’s show and heavily-business-related afterparty had run so late into the night. Late enough that by the time we returned, David only felt up to taking a shower and collapsing into bed. As I wasn’t one of the main attractions for the night, I still had plenty of energy buzzing through me that had been sparked by the concert. The confidence with which he sang, the way he strode across the stage, the grip of his hands on the microphone stand, the filthy ad-libbed lyrics he mumbled into the songs, the way he bantered with the crowd between songs in that sinful speaking voice, the throws of his long dark hair to the intensity of the music, the especially seductive gestures with which he performed with through the whole evening -- it was all so impossible to resist as an onlooker and especially from one of the best viewing positions in the whole venue. 

I had changed out of the innocent, loose, knee-length dress I’d worn purposely in case we had a single moment alone and fell into bed completely undressed. A good night’s sleep didn’t wear the energy off, it only seemed to increase through the night with him lying down beside me -- within reach and yet untouchable since he finally got to rest. When I finally fell asleep, my dreams were consumed by thoughts of him and I woke up aching to put those thoughts to rest by fulfilling them. But he was gone by then. I grumbled in my state of heated frustration, fixing myself a cup of coffee to hopefully put me in a more serious, and less impatient, state of mind. Throwing a robe over my otherwise undressed body, I ventured out to the balcony of the room and looked out at the bustling streets in hopes of a distraction. Nothing seemed to work and I groaned, heading back inside to take matters into my own hands.

Leaving the half-emptied cup of coffee forgotten on a table, I lied back down in the unmade bed and pulled apart the tie of the fluffy white hotel robe until it was completely undone. The two sides of the robe fell to each of my sides and I shut my eyes gently, reaching one hand to grasp around my breast and the other down between my parted thighs. Finally, I got a taste of relief and moaned out my satisfaction as I continued with my ministrations. I imagined that it was him touching me, seeing his face with that desirous gleam in his sweet brown eyes. It was almost as though I could hear his deep voice rumbling in a whisper against the shell of my ear and making me squirm at his words. 

“Now, what have we here?”

I jolted out of my reverie, knowing that I didn’t dream up his voice saying that. When my eyes flew open wide I saw him standing, sternly with his hands on his hips, right at the foot of the bed and taking in the sight of me spread in the center of it. My voice was failing me and so I drew my hands back, propping myself up on my elbows while waiting for him to make another remark. David stepped closer until his knees hit the edge, making the bed dip by my feet, and kneeling down to crawl up towards me. He remained positioned between my knees and lowered his gaze at me aloofly. 

“You must be very impatient this morning. Is that a correct assessment?” He questioned with an impudently demeaning pout.

“Yes, David, I missed you.” 

“But didn’t you still want to go explore the city a bit? We only have this one day and tomorrow afternoon.” He reminded me.

“No, I can’t wait another minute.” I explained with a tinge of desperation in my voice. “Please stay with me, David.”

“As you wish, Y/N.” He smiled lopsidedly, slithering down over my torso with the graze of his soft lips until he reached beneath my navel. 

He encouraged me to lie back down, his palms spreading my thighs further as he dipped his face lower and started with a nudge of his nose over my clit. The slow lap of his tongue over my already-wet folds made me lean into his touch and grasp the wrinkled sheets at each side of the bed. My mouth fell open into a silent scream while my head leaned into the mattress and my back arch off the bed. Having to wait all this time was torture but it only made this so much more worth the wait, the sensations feeling far more intense after reaching such a point of desperation for his touch. David seemed to be quite pleased with himself in getting such a visceral reaction from me so easily. His hands snuck to my ass, grasping at me and using the vantage to pull my hips closer up to his mouth and devour me with a deeper vigor. 

“Oh- Oh my God, David! I’m already close!” I whined, squirming against the layers of sheets beneath me.

He suctioned his mouth around me and sucked, keeping his taunting gaze on mine as though to test how much longer I could stand it. My legs tensed and I felt like my whole body was lifting off the bed. I let out a shameless cry and shut my eyes tightly, turning my head to the side as though it would keep me from feeling so overwhelmed by the crash of my impending orgasm. But nothing aside from David could keep the wave of electrified pleasure from crashing over my senses and temporarily relieving me from the desire that consumed me for the last several hours. 

As I let go, he released me from his mouth but expertly lapped up the wetness flooding out of me and sat back up with a sheen on his lips: “Such a sweet little girl.”

But I was nowhere near done with him, recovering in a mere few seconds of catching my breath and sitting up on my propped up arms. Our faces were an inch apart so I darted out my tongue and used it to clean off his glistening lips, my eyes shifting up to his when I was done. The slight surprise on his face turned into delight that guided his hands to my wrists and coaxed them to release the weight I leaned onto my arms. I lied back down underneath him, silently keeping a doe-eyed gaze on him as he remained on his hands and knees over me. His lips collided with mine while his hands reached for the hem of his fitted t-shirt, slipping it up over his head when we momentarily disconnected. I pressed my hands against his warm chest and slowly made my way unsubtly to the belt buckle below, undoing it solely by feel. The belt was threaded out of its loops and I carelessly cast it off to the floor. 

“Relax, darling, we’ve got all day… no need to rush.” He tried soothing me, unsuccessfully. 

“And I’m taking advantage of every moment of it.” I rebutted, unfastening the button and zipper of his tight jeans before trying to tug them down his hips. 

“Bloody hell, girl, eager doesn’t even begin to describe your current state.” He remarked, aiding my hands and slipping the jeans down past his ankles so I’d stop pulling at them.

“I’m sorry, I just missed you so much… is that such a bad thing?” I asked in a feigned innocence. 

He didn’t buy the facade for a moment, hungrily stealing a kiss from my lips before positioning himself at my hips. Though I stopped him before he could continue with a press of my palm against his lower abdomen. A confusion passed across his features, until my hands pulled at his forearms to make him switch places with me. The very least I could do was return his favor and give him a bit of relief amidst the seemingly unlimited store of energy I had within me at the moment. He reclined back with his frame relaxed, openly offering himself to my whim. I sat back over my knees between his parted legs and reached my hands up along their length to where they met, grasping his cock in one fisted hand while the other dared to wander lower, cupping or gently clutching at his balls. That gesture alone coaxed an impossibly low groan from him and a pleading look in his eyes that warned me against stopping. 

My mouth lolled open, my tongue flat against his tip as I started with a slow kitten lick over it and my eyes fixed on his. David kept himself leaning up on his elbows with a dedicated intent to watch me. I drifted lower with each lap, still going all the way back up to the tip with each stroke and keeping my hands busy. Even if he didn’t make a noise, I saw his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat in response to my actions -- giving away that he was trying to hold back evidence of the effect I was having on him. I would have to work a bit harder to coax him into giving in, so I took him into my mouth instead and slowly bobbed over his length. Working my way gradually lower, I made it only halfway down before releasing him with a pop. I took a long breath, taking him back into my mouth far deeper than before and slowing as I made my way down the last inch. My breaths were controlled, only through my nose, and my nose brushed against his pelvis just as I flattened my tongue on the underside of his length then flickered my gaze back up to his in a challenge. That was the Achilles’ heel. 

“Fuck, where did you learn to do that?” He rasped, his head falling back weakly for a moment before looking back up to observe me. 

I slid back up slowly, trailing my tongue along his length before answering his question: “Just a little something I learned.”

“Not from school, I’d assume?” He quipped with tension still in his frame.

“I’d never reveal my sources.” 

“Probably a wise choice.” He remarked, wincing as my hands began again with their motions and whining that he was close. “Y/N, baby, you’ve got to stop… I mean it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I replied, stroking him steadily and taking him back into my mouth with my cheeks drawn in as tightly as I could. 

“Y/N…” He warned again, cut off by a hissed inhale then an anguished groan as he released into my mouth in hot streams. 

My lips enclosed around him as I slipped off slowly, making sure he’d be cleaned off completely. I displayed my cum-splattered tongue to him as he heaved for breath with his face flushed red. In a quick motion, I swallowed down the salt-bitter substance and re-displayed my newly clean mouth. He powerlessly leaned back against his elbows and gazed at the scene I put on for him with a moan humming from between his parted lips. I crawled to lie beside him, nestling my head into his neck and pressing a deceptively sweet kiss onto his neck with my hand framing the opposite side of his face. 

“Don’t try to play the purity game with me now. Not after what I just witnessed.” David requested sternly. “Just imagine how your dear old parents would think of you if they knew you were such a filthy little girl.” 

“Good thing they don’t know where I am or who I’m with and, especially, what I’m doing. Now let me continue.” 

“Continue? You don’t want a rest yet, love?”

“No, I got all the rest I needed last night and you wouldn’t imagine the things I dreamt of…” I hinted with a naughty smile.

David raised his brows in curiosity, but I assured that he’d enjoy a demonstration of what I alluded to rather than a simple verbal answer. I slung a leg over his hips and angled myself right on top of him, my body brushed against him with every motion as I slipped him inside of me. One of my hands remained delicately placed at the low curve of his neck and the other combing through the roots of his dark hair at the back of his head. I curled my neck around so our noses brushed against each other, foreheads leaned into the other’s, and our lips were a centimeter apart. His heartbeat was racing, I could feel it through his skin against my own chest while mine seemed to sync with his rhythm.

My hips circled expertly over his and I slowly rose up on top of him after withdrawing my hands. He reached to hold onto my hips while my back arched, seeking that one perfect spot along my inner wall as I kept my position of control. His hands skimmed along my sides, running up to tightly grasp at my breasts before reaching back down to my ass. With his lowered foothold, he made an attempt to steer my rhythm -- drawing me forward and back in waves -- making his own hips tilt up to meet mine perfectly. Each thrust grew harder, deeper as his pace and my regulated pace picked up too. I was reaching another high as the sounds of our cut off grunts or mewls and skin smacking against the other’s. 

I shuddered, feeling a telltale warning just a second before I had to slow down into a gradual stop and endlessly called his name like it was the only prayer that could save me. My nails raked harshly over his chest, easily causing little red marks to appear over his skin. Between his gritted teeth, he growled at the final sharp push into me as his digging fingertips roughly forced my hips down onto his exactly how he desired. There were now little glimmers of beaded sweat on his forehead and a sheen over his chest, the efforts spent on this endeavor great but not yet at their limit. I was invigorated, freshly sparked into action by the labored and powerful expression on his face combined with the determination of his actions. He released into me again, sounding far more pained as his body let go.

“I hope that’s made up for last night.” David half-questioned as I slung my leg back off of him and lied back down beside him with his cum dripping down my thighs. 

“It has. But I just don’t think I can get enough of you today.” I answered nonchalantly. 

David shot me a look, “You’re joking.”

“No. Now, how do you want it this time?”

“Pardon the comparison, but you’re like a bitch in heat today.”

“I don’t mind the comparison as long as I get to have you again.” 

He shook his head in disbelief, beseeching me for a moment to recover and offering that I ride his face instead. I shrugged, easily lifting myself back up and holding onto the headboard as my legs spread wide enough that I’d be in a comfortably accessible position for him. With a steady breath of anticipation, I relaxed for the few seconds he granted me of feeling just his warm breath beneath me before the assault of his mouth began. He turned his head to clean off my inner thigh, running the tip of his tongue back up to delve into my dripping center and prod against my entrance. It was like he was utterly starved -- taking every single drop into his mouth and vigorously devouring me -- and his mouth latched on for even more. His hands kneaded at my ass, angling my hips in small arches to reach as much of me as possible. My knuckles had turned pale from how hard I was gripping onto the edge of the headboard, my teeth biting sharply into my bottom lip to keep from drawing the attention of the rest of the hotel, and my body shuddered when yet another wave of release crashed over me. I leaned forward, feeling limp as I took it in, with my shoulders hunched forward and my head resting against my hands as I looked down to the reclining David, savoring the fruits of his labor. His honeyed gaze slowly drifted over my torso then up to my flushed face and slowly released me with swollen lips.

Silently, he took hold of my waist and positioned me to lie at his side over the pillows. The singer leaned forward on his arms, hovering above me with his thumb pressing at my lower lip to coax my mouth open. I obediently parted my lips for him, wondering where this was going since he was pursing his lips together rather than leaning forward to connect them with mine. A stream of mixed fluids slowly dripped down from them like a strand of honey, right into my open mouth. When he emptied all of it from his mouth to mine, David urged my mouth shut and instructed me with a rasped voice to swallow it all, then prove it. I felt the sticky mixture of saliva and cum along my tongue, following his direction before displaying my obedience with my stuck-out tongue as asked.

“Goddamn, and can you believe that only a few months ago I saw you standing shyly in the quietest corner of a party, wearing the most virginal-looking dress and bright red lipstick that you didn’t look old enough to wear. Now look at you… utterly insatiable and filthier than anyone could’ve guessed.”

I grinned smugly and looked at him through lidded eyes, “Is that such a bad thing?” 

“Not for me.” He shook his head, planting a kiss to my forehead.

“Good, then I hope your energy is restored for another round?” 

“How are you still…?” He trailed off with genuine perplexion. 

“You bring it out in me, David.” 

“Ask me again after I’ve had a shower, love.” He reasoned, shifting back off the bed to get to the bathroom. 

“Can I join you?” I sat up straighter.

He turned abruptly, “We both know exactly what that leads to, Y/N.”

“And your answer is…?”

The singer sighed, a half-smile on his face from noticing the criss-crossing scratches over his chest and looking back to me with resolve absent in his expression: “You know I can’t deny you a single thing, come along then.”


	139. moonlight (rick wright x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Rick Wright x fem!reader  
> Warnings: slightly nsfw
> 
> this idea came to me out of nowhere just a few hours ago so it's a bit short but i couldn't get it out of my head

I had arrived late to the party, having lost track of after the concert ended and confusing my directions along the way. A friend of mine owned the venue and informed me that the band would indeed transition over here after their show, though I had yet to see them anywhere amidst the crowd of other expectant people in the dimly-lit club. I was too busy trying to make out any familiar faces to bother getting a drink or converse with anyone, catching my breath and subtly turning my head in investigation. Finally, I resolved to thinking maybe they had run late in the traffic and pressed back into a quieter area. Just to confirm, I turned my head to the nearest bystander to ask them if the band had arrived yet, only to have my attention diverted by a ghosted touch along the back of my thigh and a gentle tug at the hem of my dress. 

Behind me sat the answer to my question with a meek smile and a wave, “I’d say so.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sitting there. I feel so silly now.” I laughed dryly, trying to keep myself from flushing.

“No worries. In fact, it might be better that I’m not so easily noticeable to the masses.” The keyboardist gestured outwards. 

I offered him a sympathetic look.

“Speaking of which, I was wondering if you’d be able to grant me a favor now that you have noticed me.” 

I was taken aback but in no position to refuse: “Sure, what can I do for you?”

“Show me around to someplace a little more private and a lot more quiet. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this area and I don’t feel up to this sort of scene tonight.” He confessed.

With a hesitant nod and a shy smile, I motioned for him to follow me through the back entrance of the building to avoid the rest of the people as much as possible. The streets outside were quiet but each little doorway to a restaurant, shop, or pub was pouring with bustling noise and I figured that we’d have to walk a block or so away from the busier streets. An idea popped into my mind suddenly -- a perfect location that I almost forgot about until just now. It was down by an old, abandoned estate that was overgrown with willows and sprigs of bluebells right beside an expansive lake. I led the way down the streets, turning my head every so often to make sure he was still following behind me. We went through backroads as the sound of nightlife faded further into the background until we arrived at the squeaking iron gate to the estate’s grounds. 

The knotty, grassy ground under our feet led us in a curved path down to the picturesque scene I had in mind. There was an elegant bridge right over the bank of the serene lake, framed by the waving, wispy branches of old willows and an observation bench right in the center of it. A full moon glowed in the silken, sapphire-colored sky and reflected palely in the rippling expanse of the lake that stretched all the way out to a skimped forest along a rolling hillside. It was peaceful and completely absent of any people other than the two of us. I looked to my new musician friend with a questioning expression, trying to gauge his reaction and hoping that this was the kind of setting he wanted to be taken to. 

“Is this alright?” I asked, leaning against the firm marble railing of the bridge facing the lake.

“It’s perfect, just beautiful.” He exclaimed softly as his eyes gazed around the grounds and slowly met mine with a smile curving the edges of his lips.

“I’m glad you like it, Mr. Wright. I used to always sneak in here as a kid after the original owners just left it as it is now and no one ever bought the estate again. People thought it was haunted or something so I think I was the only person who dared to come back here, and I’m almost glad since I can always find some solitude here.” 

He seated himself down at the bench and quietly kept his eyes on me as I told my story, only disturbing the peaceful silence to correct me: “Please, call me by my first name. No need for the formalities.” 

I nodded and turned back with a sigh to observe the nature. There were a few lights in houses still gleaming amongst the darkness of the other bank, like the little twinkling stars in the sky above. Any small sources of light reflected in the smooth waters below and illuminated the slight crests of ripples across the surface. But the almost-full moon captured my attention as it radiated a comforting, silver warmth similar to the soothing glow of a candle flame. It created an ethereal light that played over forms of the trees, water, and grasses around us. A cool summer breeze gently blew from the lake and my attention was called back. 

“I’ve just realized I never asked your name, sorry I didn’t just call you by your name.” 

“Oh, it’s Y/N.”

“Lovely… now I was going to ask you, Y/N, if you’d like to come sit back here rather than lean over the railing. It’s a little warmer back here and the temperature’s starting to cool down.”

“Sure.” I shrugged, about to step over and sit beside him when his hand reached to my wrist as a means to guide me instead.

The grip of his hand twirled me around to face him, my knees aligned with his as he reached instead to my waist. 

“You must be cold and I’m sure you’d be warmer seated this way. Entirely up to you, though.” He insinuated, lightly drawing me closer to his lap. 

The night seemed like a dream -- some impossible chain of events that led to me sitting in a formerly lavish garden upon a deep blue lakeside with only moonlight lighting the scene and an incredible musician keeping me company. I didn’t want to wake up from the dream, or otherwise interrupt its course. Though I honestly felt fairly warm and enjoyed the cool breeze, his offer to keep me warm wasn’t something I was about to reject. My legs folded beneath me as I straddled them around his waist and kept my arms latched low at his back for stability, impossibly close to him that I could see every detail of his kind yet clever features. His arms looped around me too, though I presumed it wasn’t to help me stay in place.

Rick’s luminous eyes studied me for a moment before he spoke: “Is that better, Y/N?”

“I think so.” I smiled coyly then rested my head over his shoulder. 

Despite my relatively innocent demeanor, I felt his hands emboldened to linger along the sides of my thighs and follow them up under the bunched hem of my dress. His famously-nimble fingers grasped provocatively at my rear after slipping beneath the thin layer of my undergarments. The delving touch of his hands slowly made the fabric bunch together and expose more of my skin to the night air. I only gave a soft, permissible moan against his neck and tightened my hold around him, reaching one hand up to tangle through the hair at the back of his head. I wasn’t going to stop his efforts, definitely feeling warmed by his pleasure-evoking touch, and especially not when there was no chance anyone could catch us. 

His hands roamed back up for a moment, just to coax my face back towards his and plant his plush lips against mine, then resumed urging the hem of my dress higher up. My hips involuntarily began to rock over him in coordination with the fervor of his hands and mouth, his tongue rousing mine to interact with it. I hungrily responded, feeling the strongest pull towards him than I ever had with any other person I’d ever been with that it was almost intimidating, especially with how recently we’d met. That daunting thought forced me to pull away breathlessly -- for some inexplicable reason needing to see his eyes as though they’d give me an answer as to why I felt like this. His features were wild, flushed pink with heat through the dark blue night lighting, and interrupted amidst his force-of-nature course in reaching deeper into me. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Nothing… I just can’t believe this is real. And now that I know it is, I don’t think I want to run the risk of being caught for public indecency if we happen to get loud.” 

“Would you join me back to my hotel room then?” He offered, brushing a hand delicate as a flower petal over the side of my face. 

I nodded, standing up from his lap and silently noting the sizeable bulge that I noticed there as he, slightly uncomfortably, rose to his feet to now lead me along back towards the main streets to where the band would stay for the night. This time, he reached for my hand and helped me fix my dress back down on our hurried walk back into the privacy of his room to pick up where we’d left off at the lakeside.


	140. the acid queen (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '69 Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw-ish & drug use
> 
> for legal reasons, this idea totally came to me out of nowhere aside from the who song!

Something had drawn him, doe-eyed and curious, to me. I could see it in his face and in the bashful anecdotes he’d add into the conversation when prompted, just to give him an excuse to stay here rather than wander off to entertain the other partygoers. But the lopsided Cheshire cat grin that accentuated his dimples cut through the purely innocent facade, it suited him too well to be fraudulent. I knew his attention was focused on me as other conversationalists in our small group in this corner of the room began to leave -- to get a drink, to see a friend, to greet someone they were intrigued by -- and yet he stayed standing across from me. The broader discussion started delving into more personal details as we grew more acquainted with each other, mostly his honest perspective towards the hectic touring life that he hadn’t really experienced before and left him utterly exhausted even if they had shows or the odd interview to do. That gave me an idea. 

“I can’t imagine, different cities and timezones every few days and pouring all of your energy out on the stage… sounds very taxing.” I began.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to be done about it and at least it’s just a few months of travel.” He smiled boyishly, shrugging off his complaint.

“Maybe not about your rigorous schedule… though there are certainly methods to stay up long hours when you need to. I can show you, if you’d like.” 

The young singer’s dark brows furrowed under his mop of wavy hair but he didn’t refuse, giving me a small nod and following me up to where a more private party was happening in various unlocked rooms on the band’s floor of the hotel. Robert stepped forth to lead us back to his room, one of the few still-locked ones, for complete solitude. We sat down side-by-side at the foot of the bed, the music and rambunctious conversations from below or around us now muffled. I reached underneath the hem of my mini skirt to the top of my stay-up and pulled out a neatly-folded packet of tinfoil then held it out on the palm of my hand for his investigation. His expression remained perplexed and his gaze shifted questioningly back up to mine. I unfolded the thin wrappings, revealing a sheet of several, identical, colorful little squares in a grid. 

“Now tell me, darling, what have you taken before?” I asked, gauging how much I’d suggest he take if he wanted it.

“A few things here and there, mostly just marijuana.” He answered.

“You’ve never taken any kind of psychedelic before, no?” 

He shook his head, Cupid’s bow lips in a slight pout.

“These will keep you up for a long time, you won’t be able to fall asleep even if you want to for several hours because it’ll heighten the sensitivity of your receptors and your heartbeat will feel more intense. If you really want to try it, I’ll give you one tab and you can choose if you want more for the road tomorrow morning.” I warned, earning an eager nod as his eyes shifted between my serious expression and the colorful grid resting on tinfoil in my hand. 

“I’ll try one.” He reassured lightly. 

Tearing along the perforation, I separated out a four-tab row from the square then divided it down by each little unit and handed him one of them. He observed me intently, waiting for instructions, as I placed the three remaining tabs onto my tongue and displayed five minutes with the gesture of my hand. The singer placed it tentatively over the tip of his tongue and glanced at the clock. I reclined back on my propped-up arms, waiting for time to pass before it came time to swallow them and waiting for Robert to make any questions or remarks about this unfamiliar experience. 

“It just feels like I accidentally put a piece of paper in my mouth.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, these don’t dissolve away so you just have to wait it out then swallow it.”

“Why’d you take three all at once?”

“I’ve taken plenty of this before and I’m trying to keep up with how long you’re probably going to feel the effects for.” I explained, figuring I might as well continue giving him details on how this process would work. “It’ll take about an hour to start kicking in, raising your senses and sometimes a sense of distortion. You’ll sort of plateau for a few hours then start going down in the last while like you’re drained of energy but your senses and pulse will be too intense for you to sleep.” 

“Good thing tomorrow’s a long day and I’ll need to be completely up for all of it.” He remarked, glancing at the clock again then at me for permission to swallow down the tab and receiving a nod in reply.

We lied stomach-down over the still-made bed and watched tv to kill the time away, waiting for the buzz to start kicking in. I fixed myself a light drink from the mini-bar while the high hadn’t come on yet and we resumed our conversation from downstairs. He told me more about himself -- where he’d come from, how he’d been friends with the band’s drummer for ages, how he found himself invited into the band by Jimmy, wilder stories of their travels over the past year -- then paused and I noticed how large his pupils had grown. He notified me that he felt what I meant about his heartbeat, a pink flush coming to the apples of his cheeks and a bashful chuckle falling from between his arched lips. 

“It’s alright, just go with it. Fighting the feeling is only going to make it start to feel bad and it wears off eventually. Your nerves are just becoming more sensitive to any kind of stimulation too, so just let it happen, you’re alright.” I reassured him. 

The blond singer nodded in consideration of my words, turning his deep blue gaze to the television screen and giggling at something stupid he likely wouldn’t have found so funny a mere hour ago. But I wasn’t going to chide him. After all, I was feeling the same hum of my pulse through my whole body and starting to feel warm from the heightening consciousness within me. The changes in perception were gradual, slowly becoming stronger and stronger unnoticeably until the alterations became drastic enough that it was impossible not to notice anymore. Proportions felt subtly off, people or settings had a noticeable aura about them, moods swung more intensely, colors seemed to alter, patterns moved slightly, and odd realizations implemented themselves in mind. It was always an incomparable experience, your mind still in control but your senses and body deceitful. 

The setting outside started to quiet down as time passed by unnoticeably and we both knew we were on that rise into a cruising high. We walked through the relatively vacant hallways with blown-out pupils, stupid grins as we bantered about our current condition, and pointing out things we noticed as a result of the drug. Anyone else hanging about was perfectly friendly and also in a somewhat altered state, given that it was already past two in the morning. The walk looped back up to his room once we’d trampled the entirety of the hotel’s carpeted floor. Now came the plateau, both of the drug’s effects and of our activities. We leaned over the rail of the balcony with cigarettes in hand, looking out over the half-asleep city below and watched clouds of smoke swirl around us. 

“How the hell did the Beatles take these all the time? They must not’ve slept at all.” Robert remarked, noting the continuing drum of his pulse throughout his whole body.

“I guess not… I usually don’t sleep more than four hours after taking acid, and I don’t really eat anything either.” I confessed, taking another drag from the cigarette.

“How much longer do you think it’s going to last?” 

“Hmm, for you? Anywhere between two to five hours depending on how your body reacted to it.” 

His head bobbed in a nod and he changed the subject: “It may just be the new experience and all, but you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.

I grinned, “I’m pretty sure that’s the bias of never having done this before.”

“Well, you’re an interesting person too, just based off of what you’ve been talking about with me and how you carry yourself. Like you don’t feel out of place.”

“I just don’t think there’s any point in not being straightforward. No need to beat around the bush and waste your time or mine. If we get along, we get along -- if we don’t, we don’t. Besides, you’re not the first musician I’ve met around here before and you all are just normal peo- ”

Amidst my speech, he had imperceptibly snuck closer until he was right at my side and startled me enough to halt my sentence. His wide eyes were clear and gave nothing away of his thoughts. His lips were parted. His cigarette had been crushed out. I saw his eyelids shut gently then he leaned in, the surprise of his action rendering me motionless for a moment. There was a tingling sensation at the back of my head and in my chest as I began to lean into him as well, tangling my free hand into his thick curls. He hummed helplessly and drew back, as though realizing what he’d done bashfully with a rosy hue on his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just leapt in like that.” Robert glanced down apologetically, looking something like a kicked puppy.

“Don’t be silly, I can handle myself and I didn’t push you away.”

A hopeful gleam shone in his eyes when they looked back to me and a shy smile spread over his lips before I pulled them against mine again. His hand tentatively landed over my shoulders, slipping down to my back and bringing me closer in against him. Despite the quieter demeanor he’d shown me, his feet had a mind of their own as they guided us back inside his room and I didn’t realize where we were headed until the backs of my knees bumped into the edge of the bed. The jolt disbanded us for a second as we looked to each other in question, wondering what the other’s thoughts and intentions were. 

I was the first to confront the situation: “Is there something you want to kill the rest of your time doing? We do have a few hours.”

He laughed softly, “I think I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“This stuff doesn’t mess with your logic, Robert. Either you want to do this or you don’t.” 

“I want to.” The young singer mumbled in a rush.

I sat down over the duvet cover then lied back on my elbows, visibly offering myself to whatever he felt up to and easing any potential tension in our interaction. His hands gingerly ghosted along my hips then moved to his shirt, his head hung low as he focused all his attention on the task. For a prowling rock n roll singer, he certainly looked so sweet and timid. He was still so young, a boy really, who by chance found himself in a rowdy scene that offered the world to the palm of his hand. I sat back up, flatly pressing my hands to his exposed chest and exploring his frame with pointed interest until my hands happened to land at his brown leather belt. With a straightened posture, he tried to seem more self-assured and allowed me to continue by unfastening the restraints of his clothes with easy movements. There was a hopeless despair on his delicate features and I noticed his pupils had almost shrunk back to normal. 

Keeping my hands over the protruding bones at his hips, my mouth lolled open and I leaned forward with a steady gaze to his eyes as though questioning him if this was alright. He made no attempt to stop me so the flat surface of my tongue pressed to the underside of his cock. A slow stripe glided up to the tip, giving a gentle introduction for what was to come rather than jumping in headfirst. The weight of his hands landed over the width of my shoulders and his fingers gripped into the top of my back as a brace to my intensifying actions. There was a magnetic draw between our eyes, even as I tilted my head to the sides and leaned further forwards to earn a more dramatic reaction from him. The silent little cries that fell from his parted lips, his head tilted back, signified that my mission was successful thus far. I reminded myself of our heightened sensations and forced myself to take things even more gently than I usually would, at least for his sake. 

“Y/N, I-I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.” He whispered in a thick breath. “Please don’t stop.”

As his need grew, his confidence came out. His hands not only gripped me but pulled me in closer when my lips wrapped around his length, forcing me further down with a surprising insistence that I almost gagged at first. I was also stunned at the strength of his grasp, not letting me up even when I was struggling to breathe with him blocking the air from my throat. That was the only time I resisted the singer and took a minute to collect my gasping breaths when I finally broke free. I slowly reached to my own clothes, feeling stifled by them and discarded them onto the floor. Robert gave me an apologetic look and tried to stutter out a semblance of remorse but I lied back loosely, shushing him instead. 

He lied beside me, leaning over my frame with a fascination in his stare and a roaming touch that reflected the return of his uncertainty. A flower petal kiss landed at my throat, then down at my collarbone, and halting after reaching my sternum. Although Robert may have been inexperienced with the acid and its effects, it didn’t inhibit his display of how good a lover he was. Each gossamer touch was perfectly light, like the teasing tickle of a feather but leaving the receiver starved for more. The languid pace of movement allowed both of us to savor the sensations that our bodies were feeling, our pulses still hammering in our chests and the slightest of touches rousing the perception of being overstimulated. As we finally connected, our arms loosely caging over the other’s torso, it was already almost too much and our breaths descended in a marveling whimper. 

“This feels so strong… stronger than how I remember the first time.” He confessed, his forehead resting against mine as he set himself into a rolling rhythm.

I watched him as his head shook, his hands fisted the sheets at my sides, his body rising and falling -- he was braving the shattering wall of all the stimulation his body was receiving. My offer to take control was refused as he asserted his position, revealing how tenacious he’d grown over the past few hours. He was determined, only allowing his voice to betray the power of how much he was feeling as his cries filled the room. I pulled him down by the hand I had buried in his hair and slammed our mouths together while we crashed synchronously. The growl in his exhausted voice and possessive hold around me afterwards also seemed to reflect a change. There was less of a boyishness about him. Like he conquered a mountain and had proven his own capabilities to himself. He even firmly requested that I gave him half of my supply after our whole two hours of sleep, then thanked me for the experience before rejoining his friends downstairs per their rigorous schedule.


	141. the accident (jeff beck x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '69 Jeff Beck x reader  
> Warnings: traumatic-ish/car accident

request: "hi! i don't have a specific scenario but can you write something about jeff beck (late 60s)? sorry if your requests aren't open"

I hadn’t slept in days and it was only made worse knowing that Jeff was lying in that hospital bed feeling a thousand times worse than I did. At most, he’d been half-conscious and only energetic enough to get a sentence out to the doctors or nurses helping him. Other visitors came, mostly old music-related friends, asking about how he was doing and trying to coax me up out of my seat unsuccessfully. I was set on being here the moment he woke up. Especially as I hadn’t been here the night he was brought over here after the accident. I’d go kicking and screaming if anyone dared to try getting me out of the room, which hadn’t been necessary yet as the medical professional would back off the minute I barked out an affirmative rejection of their offer for a change of scenery. 

My eyes turned to him again and my head filled with worry, like a dark cloud of ascending birds coming to the forefront of my mind. What if he couldn’t get up to do anything anymore? Neither play guitar nor drive his cars nor travel with his friends? Granted, I probably wouldn’t let him get in the driver’s seat of any car in at least a year. He’d be so restless having to find something to occupy his time, a new sense of purpose in his shaken state. Not to mention how much he hated being helpless and completely housebound. A fresh glaze of tears formed over my eyes as I thought about it all over again and my nerves were set off with the overwhelming fear of uncertainty. 

“Y/N?” A faint voice called weakly, making my heart leap and my cloud of thoughts fade further into my mind. 

Thoughtlessly, I sprung to my feet and found myself pressed against the edge of the hospital bed, “Yes?”

“You’re still here?” 

My heart softened at the vulnerability of his voice and I practically melted when his weary eyes met mine. He was so utterly helpless. It hit me then, seeing him finally able to make some semblance of conversation and struggling to even do that through all the pain he was feeling combined with the tight bindings over his upper body. I reached for his hand, only ghosting mine over it in case holding it would hurt him at all. He sighed with a faint smile over his lips and his gaze fell towards his outstretched body wrapped up underneath the thin fleece blanket. 

“You should go home.” Jeff remarked, guilt laced in his tone.

“Why would I leave? You’re still unwell and I’m fine waiting.” 

“You’ve been here for four days, they’ve told me.” He sighed. “I don’t want you to see me like this… and they’ll call you when I can go.” 

“I’m staying right here.” I insisted firmly, taking note of how he didn’t bother to waste energy on rebuttals. 

There were so many questions in my head and they were threatening to burst from my pursed lips now that he was somewhat more awake than before. Was he feeling better at all? Was he in pain? Was talking like this making it worse? Should I leave him to rest up again? Why did he decide to risk his life so recklessly? How long was he lying in the wreckage before someone came to help? How was everything before I got here? Did he not notice that something was going wrong before he crashed? But I kept my bombardment of questions at bay. They could all be discussed when he was in a better condition and up to talking. For now, standing at his side with my hand over his, surrounded by a comfortable silence, would have to do.


	142. another town (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '93-ish Jimmy Page x younger fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw-ish
> 
> not exactly like the request but I didn't want to force it, sorry to disappoint :(

request: "This is greeeeeat! 💗 You know I'm a slu* for old Jimmy, sooooo....  
Can you do one of Jimmy's in my country, Brazil, in 2009? like, he comes here and falls in love with a Brazilian, but then he is old and she is young, and he thinks she won't want it, they have sex, with dominant jimmy... They fall in love and that's it!"

The show was electric, everyone could feel it -- the audience, the other ensemble of musicians that accompanied them, the stage crew, anyone else hanging around backstage, and the guitarist certainly felt it too. Being able to have that control and manipulate the moods of everyone in that open venue was a rush like no other. At least it was written in his body language when he came back, almost smugly sauntering with sweat dripping down his face and a bright smile greeting the so-called welcoming committee after freshening up in a dressing room. The singer that accompanied him was already swept off to the side by one of my friends under the guise that she was just doing her job of welcoming him to the city and ensuring that he had a good time after the show. 

A few fellow members of our camaraderie branched off to speak with everyone else, all of us easily identifiable with the scant, glittery costuming reminiscent of Carnaval that we wore. The return of the guitarist was announced with hoots of their entourage, followed by our standard, incredibly zealous, cheers of congratulations for the show and welcome to the city. Based on the delight in his expression and not-so-discreetly wandering gaze, we were certainly doing our job. Pictures were taken and playful banter was exchanged until everyone was called to clear the venue. Only then did I notice his particular attention directed towards me with an offer to join them at an afterparty. 

“Only if you’d like to join us, of course.” Jimmy added, backing off slightly as though uncertain of how I’d react. 

“I’d love to! After all, I’m here to make sure you’re enjoying your time here and it’s harder to do that from a distance.” 

“You’re not obligated to follow me around if you don’t want to, it’s a completely unprofessional proposition.” He explained.

“Well when you put it that way, how could I refuse?” 

That answer returned the hint of arrogance to his gentle smile. He nodded for me to follow him back through to the cars outside, helping me get seated beside him with all the elaborate (and fairly uncomfortable to sit on) details of my getup. As we arrived, he immediately whisked me off to a more hidden part of the room to avoid disturbance from the other people filling the rest of the luxuriously-designed place. Upbeat music and brilliantly-hued lights created an ambience over the swaying crowd with glimmering glasses of drinks in their hands. I observed the people for a few moments and glanced back to Jimmy, noticing his attention was silently fixed on me. 

“Not your scene?” I inquired.

He shrugged quietly and changed the subject, “Where would you advise a tourist to visit the city? Unfortunately I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see much of it.” 

I began listing off various attractions, even adding in personal anecdotes about them and mentioning some traditional foods he absolutely had to try. In turn, Jimmy compared his own similar experiences in other countries and happily answered any of my curious inquiries about places I’d never been to before. He was surprisingly not as much of a closed-book as I imagined, adding in lesser-known details about his travels and even going back to his Yardbird days. At least until the hours whiled away to the morning and I only noticed the exhaustion overwhelming me when he checked over the time nonchalantly, rhetorically asking if I’d like to head to bed yet. I nodded with a soft chuckle, accepting his hand to help me up and guide me down a few streets to his hotel with an invitation to spend the night there (for safety purposes, he assured). Accepting the offer as my eyelids were too heavy to keep open, I curled up at the chaise lounge in the entry room of the suite and fell asleep instantly. 

***************

“Y/N? Y/N....?” A soft voice called in a sing-song tone. “I didn’t want to wake you but I figured the pyjamas you fell asleep in weren’t very comfortable to sleep in.”

My eyes felt weakly glued together as I managed to blink them open and notice a pristine, expansive hotel room around me as well as a familiar guitarist leaning over me. I’d nearly forgotten the evening’s events until I felt the scratch of sequins against my skin and dried makeup itching on my face. With a sudden abruptness, I sat up on my elbows despite the discomfort in my tired muscles. Jimmy sat by my ankles over the lounge and trying to stifle his amusement at my state of mental disarray with a concerned expression.

“Are you alright, love?” 

“Yeah, thank you for letting me stay here last night. Anything I can do to return your kindness?” 

Some ideas certainly seemed to cross his mind for the few moments that he remained silent, but he gave me a relatively tame response: “Take me around the city?”

“Sure... just let me have some time to get home, change clothes, come up with a rough plan, and get right back here. How do you feel about swimming?” 

He grimaced but chuckled it off as I waved a goodbye to him, praying that the glittery, theatrical ensemble wouldn’t be too ridiculous in the bright light of day.

***************

“Jimmy, what are you doing?” I exclaimed between laughs, my head sinking into my shoulder as I kneeled on the ground with a camera in hand. 

“Trying to make a memorable photo, love.” He responded aloofly then resumed his comical expression and outstretched arms that mirrored the statue of Jesus Christ behind him. 

“You look ridiculous!” I declared, shaking my head and taking the photo anyways.

He stepped out of the pose and gazed over to the horizon, observing the incredible view below with a serene blue sky that was just a touch paler than the deep ocean. Even the range of smoothly-curving mountains in the distance turned into lighter and lighter shades of blue. I stood up then followed him out to the view, carefully handing the camera back to him and remaining at his side to take in the sight. With a relaxed sigh, I realized just how breath-taking it always was even after having seen it several times. The cluster of so many homes and sage greenery stretched all the way out to the colorful, umbrella-dotted beach. My admiration for the familiar scenery was abruptly diverted by a gentle touch easing up the curve of my back. 

I glanced discreetly to my side, looking down to see his outstretched arm around me and smiling to myself. To hint at my reaction towards his intended or unintended touch, I leaned my frame against his and my head against his shoulder. Jimmy seemed pleased, his head turning to me in my peripheral vision in slight disbelief. I remained fixed in place as he turned back to the view I was observing, his hand sliding just a bit higher then creeping right down over the line of my hips. He seemed more certain of himself now than before, not hesitant of how I perceived his actions since I evidently wasn’t going to stop him. In fact, he almost lingered across the line of public decency for a moment. Until I turned to him, keeping us just as close with my arms in a low loop at the curve of his back. 

“This seems a bit forward, but I don’t think I mind it at all… do you?” The guitarist inquired.

“No I don’t. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you were more forward as long as we weren’t in such a public place. If that doesn’t seem too forward…” 

His brows raised in surprise to accompany his pleased smile, “You don’t care at all that I’m just a stranger who happens to be several years older than you?” 

I leaned forward gently to brush my lips against his, “Does that answer your question?”

“Indeed it does, Y/N. I only hope you didn’t have too many more stops left along the way.” 

“They can wait… how much longer are you staying here?”

“As long as you like, this is the last stop on the tour and I can easily sway management decisions on my schedules.” 

“So, are we traveling onwards to tourist areas or to a more private setting?”

“Your choice but if I can sway you at all, I’d suggest finding a respite before we end up giving a show to the public at some tourist attraction.” He suggested. 

“Well, now you get to show me the way… back to where you’re staying, that is.” 

Our route back was rushed and impatient, hands clasped together through whatever mode of transportation was moving us closer along the path to our desired destination with shared looks of desire between us every so often. I continued a makeshift tour as we passed certain places of note, pointing them out and adding commentaries about each one then answering any of the guitarist’s follow-up questions. Though the friendly interaction was clearly a disguised distraction keeping our immediate attention away from what was truly hanging over our heads. The car halted outside the hotel entrance and we eagerly followed each other up in a whirlwind haste with no mind to anything aside from finally reaching his room. We both expelled a short breath of relief upon the sound of the door -- accidentally -- slamming shut behind us. 

In the blink of an eye, Jimmy had me pinned against the wall with his hands firmly over my hips and his lips harshly capturing mine. The pressure from them almost hurt; I could feel his teeth and thought I tasted blood from how hard he pushed into me. My head knocked against the wall and I fisted at his shirt in hope to grasp onto some semblance of stability. The moment he granted me to catch my few heaving breaths, he almost instantly reconnected our lips and this time sought entrance into my mouth with a painful bite to my lower lip. His tongue slipped inside when I cried out against him and I felt like I could barely keep up with him, but was nonetheless enjoying the breakneck pace between us. 

We finally broke apart the moment both of us felt our lungs stinging from the lack of air, though Jimmy didn’t let things slow down for too long: “Shall I take you against the wall or would you prefer the comfort of the bed?”

“Bed, please. I’m going to make a dent in the wall if we went too much further here.”

Pressing a surprisingly sweet kiss to the back of my hand, he confirmed my choice and led me through to the bedroom. Our one-track minds caused tunnel vision -- nothing of the luxurious room catching my attention when my eyes were solely fixed on Jimmy -- resulting in my indelicate plop down over the bed into a permissible position to remain perfectly accessible to him, ready and more than willing. He looked at me with a smug pride, satisfied with my undoubtedly welcoming demeanor, and stalked over towards the edge of the bed frame. The process was initiated as he leaned down, removing all of my clothing from the waist down and pressing kisses from my foot in a trail up to my knee. He couldn’t reach much higher simply leaning over, instead positioning himself onto his hands and knees to resume his path. 

The guitarist halted, a torturing small distance above the tops of my thighs, “Are you still sure about this? I’m not trying to force you into anything nor take advantage of your hospitality or anything like that.”

Sitting back up on an elbow, I reached to his jaw firmly and looked him squarely in the eyes as I answered: “Listen, if I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t have let things go this far and I would’ve said something to you earlier. On the mountain, in the car, downstairs, or even when you had my back against the wall.” 

He took my outstretched arm by the wrist, pressing his lips to the backside of my hand before releasing it and leaning his head down to resume his path -- finally initiating the intense connection both of us had been aching for.


	143. cryin' time (john bonham x reader/robert x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: John Bonham x reader (but starts with a disappointing Robert x reader)  
> Warnings: nsfw at first then super fluffy
> 
> sorry this one's a bit short too but I didn't want to make it too mean to Robert

request: "Hello! I would love to read something around the experience of this groupie: 'Jimmy [Page] and Robert [Plant] used to like threesomes. I didn't enjoy that because Robert was demanding and you felt used with him. He just discarded you when he was done.' I know it's terrible but there is not enough of mean non-gratifying Robert out there. For lighten up the story, kind Bonzo might come in scene and make up for selfish Robert. It woul be lovely as nsfw as possible."

Asking for this anomymously, because I am ashamed of my desires 🙄

“Oh fuck yes…” The singer rumbled lowly, his head tilted all the way back and his hair cascading down his back.

I was too stunned, the sinking feeling in my stomach and the rise of frustration through my chest kept me from saying a word. 

He finished and recovered back into a tall posture over my lying form, the signature dimpled grin bright across his face as he addressed me again: “Darlin’ you’re incredible.”

“B-But I didn’t…” I trailed off under my breath. 

His strong hands grasped my ankles, tossing them off to one side like I was nothing but a ragdoll, while he stepped back and slipped out from me. My body felt sore and unsatisfied. All I could do was lie there, wondering how this playful, apparently kind, man who looked so reminiscent of sunshine could act so carelessly. I tried reassuring myself that maybe he had a lot on his mind and couldn’t help but be selfish. It eased my mind a little as I shifted off the rumpled sheets, haphazardly re-dressing while Robert freshened himself up in the bathroom with the run of his hand through an untamed mop of curls. My clothes felt dirty, or maybe I just felt dirty in them given the rough and tumble nature of the previous half-hour (at best) towards my passive body. 

He didn’t even try saying anything to me as my reflection crossed behind his in the mirror and I clicked the room’s door shut behind me. 

My feet stumbled down the hall through a slight limp, a glum expression painting itself clearly over my face and I couldn’t make myself cheerful enough to even try masking it. I couldn’t hear the buzz of the party going on all around, nor the complaints of the hotel guests that didn’t anticipate a crowd of a rock band’s followers to keep them up all night. I couldn’t feel the brush of shoulders against mine from the people who passed me by in various states of dress and consciousness. I couldn’t taste the alcohol that I managed to swipe from some serving table amidst the hall and heartily drank down. I couldn’t find a voice to apologize to the people I bumped into or engage in some sort of friendly conversation. I couldn’t stop the embarrassing well of tears over my eyes that easily spilled over onto my cheeks. I couldn’t ease away the pit at the bottom of my stomach that was weighing on me like a stone.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice managed to rouse me from my gloominess.

A pair of large hands planted themselves at the sides of my upper arms, not allowing me to evade the question, and a magnetic set of hazel eyes stared me down too strongly to look away. I found another member of the band opposite me: the drummer. My heart fell to my stomach. I really didn’t want to discuss what happened or even think about how he could repeat back anything I said to Robert. But with the gentle brush of his hand against my cheek, my good reasoning and better sense were lost. 

“I just left Robert’s room.” I began, my gaze sinking to the floor.

He nodded in understanding, not pressing further on the subject as though he knew exactly what had happened from past experiences or as though he could sense my discomfort with the subject. 

“Ah, I see. Perhaps you’d like to come back to my room? It’s very late, and I’m saying that as someone who goes to bed around five in the morning on these tours.” John urged, a kind smile on his wearied face.

“I really don’t want to impose on y- ”

“You can’t impose on an invitation, love.” 

I sighed, realizing that I had nowhere else to go and coming home this late would only make things worse. What I needed was a distraction, a change of the night’s events. 

“I guess I’ll have to accept.” I smiled bashfully, following his lead after he gestured for me to come along with him. 

The hallway cleared up further towards its end where his room happened to be and he chivalrously welcomed me inside, shutting the door quietly behind us. In the silent solace of his room, I felt a great wave of powerlessness at the realization that now I was dropping myself into the hands of yet another one of these guys. Though I didn’t plan to sleep with him this time. I just took a few steps and sank down onto the plushly upholstered sofa with a deep sigh. The drummer approached me carefully, sitting down across from me and just waiting for me to say something when I felt up to it. But all I felt was disappointment. At the experience. At the singer’s character. At my own stupidity. At how pitifully I was for still sitting here with his bandmate on the verge of tears -- saddened or infuriated.

“Are you going to speak, or are we just going to sit here quietly?” John pressed gently.

I smiled wryly, still refusing to look at him out of fear that looking at him would intimidate me from speaking out openly. “It just felt so… exploiting.” 

“He doesn’t mean the harm he causes. I don’t think he even realizes how often he does this routine of discarding people like you without batting an eye.” John explained truthfully. “I know this doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry and I hope I can apologize on his behalf.” 

I turned to face him with a grateful smile and a prick of sentimental tears in my eyes, “That’s very kind of you. And I’m thankful for you letting me stay here.” 

“Of course, what kind of a man would I be to allow such a pretty thing to stumble down empty hotel hallways with tears shining on their cheeks?” 

I laughed lightly, feeling the tears come again and make new tracks down my face as he leaned forward to wipe them away with his thumb. His hands reached for my shoulders and he easily maneuvered me closer to him with his arms blanketed around me. It felt too wonderfully reassuring for me to fight against, so I relaxed against his broad chest with my head curled over him and savoring his warm hold. His steady heartbeat thumped against my ear and his slow breaths blew over the top of my head while he smoothed a hand across my back. Gradually, the pit in my stomach and heavy feeling in my chest dissolved away as I started to feel better. I found my consciousness slipping away with each of my own deepening breaths, the drastic shifts of the evening’s mood and the incredibly late hour having caught up to me.


	144. stormbringer (david coverdale x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '74/'75-ish david coverdale x fem!reader who's a reporter  
> Warnings: nsfw of course, my mind is always in the gutter

The door of the dressing room slammed shut behind me hard enough to make me flinch and the singer began his blustered confrontation: “Tell me directly, right now, what’s your problem with me?”

I crossed my arms and sat down with a huff on the couch, “You must be a lot more thick-headed than I thought if you still haven’t figured that one out.”

He groaned, rubbing his sweat-soaked forehead with the palm of his hand in irritation and stood tall before me to continue the assault with a scowl on his face: “Quit acting like such a bitch. Just tell me what the hell you have against me.”

A fiery breath rose up through my chest as I tried keeping myself from shouting at him or launching up onto my feet to slap him for that remark. Never in my time as a reporter did I have to deal with such a challenging person. Sure, there were the stereotypically cocky or diva-like celebrities who you had to pester into giving a proper interview and there were the people who were surprisingly silent when it came to interviews, either from shyness or a distrust of the press. But this was a whole other level of difficulty. He had dodged giving an interview for the stupidest excuses, acted like such an entitled idiot the entire time I saw him, and refused to take me seriously if I ever did try to confront him. At least now he was starting to change that last point.

“You know what my problem is? You’re a pompous ass. You walk around any place like you own it and treat people like they’re subservient to you. I mean, the whole thing in New Zealand where you felt the need to do something stupid resulted in you getting arrested and almost delayed the whole tour schedule. You like to think you have a way with people, including the press, yet you’re the only person I’ve had a problem with here and I still haven’t gotten an interview out of you. And I don’t even need it to finish my work! I can write my own perspective on this tour with the input of everyone in the band. The only difference your interview will make is that you can have some effect on how you’re painted in the article. Your choice and you don’t even seem to care that I can ruin you.” 

He chuckled dryly, “‘Ruin me’? Sweetheart, you’re harmless and you forget that bad reputations are fairly characteristic of people in my profession. If you want your interview so badly, fine, come back to my room with me when we get to the hotel and I’ll answer whatever you want. But I’m only doing it to get you off my back.”

“Fine.” I spat, standing up from my seat and slamming his dressing room door behind me as I darted away to wait around for the transportation with the rest of the entourage backstage.

Anger was still radiating off of me in waves and I probably showed it on my face, given that no one dared to approach me when I left David’s dressing room. We dispersed into the various cars when they were ready to go and my ride back with the hot-headed singer was completely silent. I made myself look busy with a notebook in hand and reviewed all the past notes I’d made over the shows or the other band members. It was lucky that the ride was only fifteen minutes. He stepped out and glanced at me with a flame in his eyes, still unhappy, then gestured curtly for me to follow him. I certainly followed, but not urgently. This just needed to get done while he briefly submitted himself to my whim for the duration of this interview process. 

He unlocked his door and muttered an instruction to shut it behind me. I followed the request but didn’t bother to disguise my irked sigh at his behavior. My feet slowly lingered further into the room, finding him reclined comfortably and carelessly over the foot of the neatly-made bed. Fighting the urge to roll my eyes at how aloof he looked, I seated myself at the upholstered ottoman bench pressed against the bed’s edge and flipped my notebook to the next clear page with my pen in hand. I took a deep breath in preparation, anticipating just how vexing this was going to be. After mentally running through my initial questions, I sternly turned to look towards the singer.

“What would you describe as your primary source of inspiration?” 

A smug grin formed over his mustache-crowned lips: “People. Many of which we come across through the tour, temporarily but plenty of them can make an impression in one night or so.”

“You want me to write this?” I questioned, my mouth contorting in slight repulsion.

“It’s the truth, baby, and isn’t that what you wanted?” He taunted.

“Whatever you say…” I trailed off under my breath then transitioned to the next question. “What is the most difficult aspect of your work?”

David chuffed, “Where are you getting these questions from? You sound so dull and, right now, you’re the most difficult thing.”

“Just answer the damn question. Or, better yet, make up your own questions that you want to answer and then tell me the answer.”

He straightened up, taking a moment to think as his eyes lingered up to the ceiling and then continuing to talk: “The most valuable thing from this experience, as I’m newer to the group than anyone else, is the exposure to so many different places. Not only are things like architecture or climate varied but there are all these cultural intricacies that you can’t put into words, you have to experience them yourself to truly understand it. That’s why I pulled that stunt in New Zealand -- not because I wanted to look like some badass, but because I wanted to test that law against cursing and how seriously they took enforcing such a silly thing that we normally don’t look at as being terrible enough to be illegal.” 

I wrote out pieces of his answer in an indelicate scrawl then looked back up to him in boredom as a signal to continue.

“Something many people don’t seem to understand about this lifestyle from an outside point of view is that a lot of the ‘bad things’ we do isn’t just to be troublesome or align ourselves with some kind of persona. Sometimes it is, depending on the person’s intentions. But most of the time you start to let yourself partake because there are a million distractions and you’re missing home and all of these unexpected things happen that overwhelm you. So then you shrug your shoulders and drop the reigns for a moment, trying to get rid of some of the pressure or give yourself some means to stay alert or provide just one thing to focus on. Do you get what I’m alluding to?” 

“Drinks, drugs, parties, women?”

He nodded, a shade of guilt momentarily passing over his face, “Yeah. It doesn’t mean that it’s the best way of dealing with it all but it’s sometimes the most convenient way to do something about it.” 

My hand finished writing hastily and I expressed a realization: “You know, either you’re being genuine and insightful despite your usual demeanor... or you’re very good at providing bullshit reasoning for why you act like that.”

“I said I’d give you the truth.” He shrugged. “And I’m just doing this to get you to stop hounding at me.” 

“Hounding?” I furrowed my brows. “I’m terribly sorry for doing my job in getting this group, and you, some exposure to the public.” 

“We could always do that ourselves.”

“Yeah, and look at how the outside-looking-in media portrays your marauding.” I pointed out. “At least with me, I see everything as it happens and you have some say in what I write.”

“Oh I see, I should be thanking you for your generosity, is that it?” He questioned sarcastically with an amusement-laced look.

“No, but apologizing for calling me a bitch would be a good start.” I smiled.

“Only if you apologize for calling me a pompous ass.”

This was strange, unusual for our interactions. We were bantering with each other after a solid month of rising tension, though I still felt a little flame of anger still burning towards him. How could we be so friendly after all those cold looks, insulting remarks, and name-calling? He seemed honest now and I was just going along with it, but it would be foolish to expect him to remain this congenial much longer than this one night where he was probably too tired to keep up the conflict and let it dissipate. Or maybe he always acted like this -- flip-flopping between amiableness and coldness as he pleased as some gesture of pushing people away when they thought they were becoming acquainted with him. I wasn’t planning on letting him pull that trick on me and played it safe, stepping back behind a wall of neutrality again.

“I’ll admit that name-calling is childish but it doesn’t invalidate that you have been acting so rudely towards me, and quite a few other people, over the past month of touring. Now, shall we continue with the interview?”

David seemed taken aback at the shift in my tone but mirrored it in his own reply: “Sure, get on with it then.”

I cleared my throat and asked another question: “What would you say was the turning point of your musical career and how would you describe it?” 

He pursed his lips pensively, his eyes not meaning mine as he fell into a silence. That was rare -- he was usually so smooth-spoken and quick to respond on any topic -- especially as this seemed like such a simple question to answer. His public exposure as a musician had been limited solely to his joining of this group; I figured that’s what his answer would be. But perhaps it was a lot more complicated than it seemed, as he still was under the wings of the others being a newcomer to their group and not its leader. Even that seemed like a simple enough explanation, yet he remained quiet and thoughtful.

“I can ask you something else if you’d prefer…?” I offered.

“No, Y/N, it’s fine.” He brushed away the hair hanging thickly over his face. “As you may have presumed, my invitation as the vocalist here is the pivotal moment of my musical work thus far. Describing it is more challenging. It’s unbelievable, but it’s far from a dream… not a nightmare either. I just try not to read too deeply into the challenges when I can and try to solve anything that’s in my power to solve.” 

“Do you read anything into the reviews of your music or performances?” 

“With a grain of salt. You don’t have any grounds to write about music and propel an opinion about it if you don’t know anything about it.” 

I nodded, noting down his response and how his stiffer tone had dissolved again. It was only a matter of time that the banter would come back. So I decided to steer things again.

“Would you say that I have any validity in what I write?” I questioned, looking up at David directly and unwaveringly.

The initial response I received was a snort. I narrowed my eyes at him, still waiting on his reply and wondering what his amusement was supposed to signify. His brown eyes refused to meet my gaze as he mentally formulated an answer, as though choosing his words carefully, so I figured he was going to tell me my reviews weren’t worth shit. My mind was already busy trying to come up with rebuttals to anything he might say next and prepared to explain myself as well as the validity of my writing, most of which not being opinionated.

“Firstly, I haven’t read anything of yours.” He stated. “So whether or not you know what you’re doing, I wouldn’t have any knowledge of it.” 

“Fair enough. But that does illustrate that you were talking ignorantly when you said I had no power in my field of work.” 

Now his gaze flashed back towards me with that same fiery gleam, though altered from fury to something else I hadn’t seen in them before. It softened momentarily as his hand reached to the side of my face, holding it in an upwards tilt so I couldn’t turn away. The defiance painted over my features only made him smile as he delivered his counterstatement to my confident declaration. 

“Not really, darling. I was speaking in general terms and reporters can throw out whatever information they wish, but they have no control of the response. Then, considering that I hadn’t heard of you or seen your work until you came to work with us, you don’t have that much sway in your field.” 

I tried to recoil from his touch at the bite of his words, unsuccessfully, but managed to snarl back: “You seem to know just how to push people’s buttons.” 

“Don’t tell me you still despise me after how hospitable I’ve been with this article of yours.” He teased, only feeding into my vexation.

My hands clasped around his wrist, trying to pull his strong grasp away rebelliously and letting out a disgruntled groan. But the insistent singer wasn’t keen on letting me off so easily. His grip on me shifted from the gentle touch over my cheek to a harsher hold onto my shoulders that kept me from moving away from him. I put down my notebook and pen, turning my full, riled attention to him with the disgruntled expression of a petulant child on my face. At this point, his intentions were unclear to me. It was like he was purposely trying to make me frustrated with him and recreate the familiar conflictual relations between us.

“Well, do you really still dislike me so much?” He questioned with a hint of a patronizing tone in his voice and in the downward tilt of his face.

“Right now, yeah.” I answered curtly.

“And nothing will change your mind?” His softened lilt felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“Not unless you apologize for what you said. You’ve been impossible enough to deal with.” 

He let out a crooning “aww” through a feigned look of pity and leaned closer, pulling me in towards him by the shoulders. Instinctually, my brows furrowed in confusion. But my mental processing took a while longer to register exactly what he was doing until I saw his eyelids droop shut and I felt his lips land over mine. I didn’t react logically for another few moments, actually allowing him to continue and starting to kiss him back until I realized what was going on. My hands suddenly pushed at his chest and I turned my head to the side to break away from him, looking away shamefully at letting such a thing occur.

A startled breath racked through my lungs and I stuttered out, “Th-That was supposed to happen. Why did you- ?”

“The better question is why didn’t you stop me faster and why did you kiss me back?” He said with a smartly tilted brow.

“I- You- You’re impossible!” 

“And you’re in denial.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, I wanted to win you over faster and you were too stubborn to talk through it. Besides, why would you put up with someone you found so irritating for such a long time if you didn’t need to? Unless, deep down, you weren’t irritated by them but rather had an interest in them.” He reasoned.

I was taken aback and scoffed at his insinuation, “No, you’re definitely irritating… and presumptuous! How conceited do you have to be to jump to the conclusion that I’d stuck around you because I was attracted to you?! Need I remind you that I’m a reporter and have spent most of my time talking to everyone except you?” 

The singer sat back, silent and confident, waiting for me to waste my breath until I’d finally admit to him being right. Which definitely wasn’t going to happen. 

“I-I mean, I hate you! We don’t even get along with each other on the most base level and can’t be friendly for more than fifteen min- ”

The rambling of my startled mind was cut off with the collision of his lips on mine silencing me yet again. But all the protesting and trying to fight it off had drained my energy to draw away, instead letting him have his way this time. I didn’t want to hand David a victory after how frustrating he’d been, but I was happy as long as I wasn’t at a loss, realizing that I was secretly enjoying it just a little bit based on the ripple in my stomach. Something about how our interactions were always so heated and intense made this seem far more interesting than any other kiss I’d ever felt. Almost like there was a guilt behind it, like we weren’t supposed to be doing this or that being caught would risk breaking our reputations of hostility towards each other. Slowly, I brought myself to let my hand rest over the curve at the bottom of his neck and entangled my fingers absentmindedly through his long, dark hair. 

His expression remained relaxed but he pulled away just a centimeter to taunt me: “And I thought you said you didn’t like me…”

“I don’t. I’m just putting you into a false sense of security, or trying to confuse you.” I smiled, our lips brushing against each other’s when we spoke.

His smile grew against my lips and he pressed into them again, allowing his hands to roam across my back to draw me nearer until I had to shift up onto the surface of the bed from the soft bench I’d been seated on earlier. I could feel his warm breaths on my cheeks, his guiding hands lingering over my rear to pull me against him, and his growing bulge against me as he lowered me down under him with his thighs straddling my hips. Like a protective shield, or maybe a domineering attacker, the singer hovered over my body with his own. The changed position granted him an initiation to a new tactic, leaving a final kiss at my lips and creating a dotted path downwards to the neckline of my top. Only then he stopped, towering up over me in a tall seat and a questioning look on his face. 

“May I have your permission to remove this, Y/N, or do you still hate me?” 

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive conditions. But the answer to both of your questions is yes.” I talked back with a victorious little smirk.

He rolled his eyes at my continued defiance, still reaching his hands to the hem of my shirt and drawing over my head. His hands explored the newly-exposed skin -- running his hands up my sides, smoothing over my abdomen, grazing along my arms, and sneaking devilishly beneath my bra -- coaxing gooseflesh to rise in response. Our eyes remained locked in a quasi-staring contest, waiting for the other to break their fixed gaze. I reciprocated the temptation of his touch, reaching to play at his belt loops then centered at his zipper before slipping lower little by little and testing his resistance. He returned the challenge in removing his hands from my torso and instead mirroring my placement, slithering beneath the waistline of my jeans then halting with a glimmer in his deceptively-innocent eyes. 

“You can’t possibly hate me now… not with my hand down your pants.”

“I can very easily with the way you’re teasing me.”

“I never took you to be so… easy.” He taunted.

“Oh fuck off.” I retorted, finding the fire within me again to sit up and push him over. 

A slight shade of bewilderment shone over his face for a moment but there was no reluctance or resistance to my seizure of control, his hands simply planting themselves just below my waist. I leaned over him, my chest a few inches over his face while my hands fingered through the strands of his hair and slowly drifting to his firm chest. My hips rocked languidly, a barely noticeable motion but plenty noticeable to him based on the anguished contortion and rosy flush on his face. I sought to bring him to the same state of dress as I was in, unfastening his dark shirt button by button then spreading open over his midsection and doing a little bit of my own exploration. 

“Y/N, take off your pants and flip over this way.” He commanded through a labored tone. 

I halted my motions and cocked my head, “Not even gonna bother asking me if I still hate you?”

“No, you’re too stubborn to admit if you changed your mind so it’s pointless to ask.” David explained. “But if you wanted to hear it: Are you really going to let someone you hate eat you out?”

I laughed, slinging my leg off him and fulfilling his request of undressing before climbing back into a new entanglement with him. My hand rested over the evident tent through his jeans and palmed at him while I felt his lips run upwards along the inside of my thigh. His hands worked my knees further apart, lowering my core closer to the heated exhale of his mouth until my hands distracted him away from the task at hand: pleading through a gruff voice that I just unfasten his jeans already and get on with what I was doing. But as I was going to, a gingered lap from the tip of his tongue made me freeze in place and hum my delight while my fingers dug into his still-clothed thighs. 

When the initial shock of his touch dissolved, I used the new vigor coursing through me to swiftly unfasten the jean’s restraints and begin to return his favor. I lied my face low between the V-ed protrusion lining his pelvis, sticking my tongue out far enough to kitten lick upwards inch by inch and raise my head when I got to the ridge of his tip. Though my partner didn’t seem to enjoy the tease of my motions continuing to run beneath the ridge, taking his revenge by closing his mouth around me and vehemently sucking until I stopped to cry out. 

David released me with a pop and his hands firmly kneading at my ass, “You keep doing that on me and you’ll have a mess all over yourself.”

“I don’t think I’d mind that. And you’re not so bad yourself.” I complimented, leaning down to take him fully into my mouth. 

He pushed me off sideways instead of resuming, apparently not satisfied with my permissible answer. “Now you’re starting to be the difficult one.” 

The authoritative stature of his frame told me not to challenge him much further unless I wanted to be teased endlessly, so I decided against retorting. Instead I lied back limply, allowing his strong arms to manipulate me around to his whim. I was flipped over, my back now lying against the wall of pillows and my legs stretched to dangle over the edges of the bed. He took an additional moment removing his jeans fully, tossing them carelessly to the floor and practically diving back towards me with determination threading through his demeanor. His fisted hand pumped over his length while the other used its thumb to circle over my nub, my body starting to shift over the no-longer-neat bed from the sensation and from the sight of him so close to me. There was still a tinge of guilt about this whole situation, like we were betraying our usual selves just to give into the impassioned heat of the moment. 

“Speak now or forever hold your peace…” He said, as though reading my thoughts and giving me a final warning. 

“Well then don’t keep me waiting, baby.” I directed with a sickly-sweetness in my voice.

One side of his mouth quirked up as he leaned down, kissing me as a brace to him gradually pushing inside. Our mouths opened together in a gasp from the sensation -- the feeling of a new lover to discover deeper -- and the conflicting history between us making this tryst far more intriguing to experience. My neck stretched to push further into his mouth, my hands tugging through the thick strands of his hair and eliciting a low moan against my lips. I felt him slowly delve further until we were fully collided and I whimpered as my body lied back completely from brief overwhelment. Though my abdomen involuntarily reacted otherwise and leaned in towards his for more contact, unable to get enough. 

Against my wishes, David withdrew with a shaky breath and his eyes opening to meet mine under his brows. I inhaled in preparation as I anticipated his thrust back into me. It was strange, I imagined he’d be far rougher with me given the escalation that led to this very moment, primarily involving harsh words and declarations of anger against the other. Yet he was gentle and slow, as though to ensure that every little movement would be felt by the both of us. The patient rhythm made me feel every inch he drove into me, every little bead of sweat that dripped down my temples, every puff of heated breath that fell from his open mouth, every tense of my muscles, every spark of pleasure that built into a larger wave, every shade of concern that he gazed at me with, every vibration of our incoherent voices, every heavy beat of my heart in my chest. 

“Please, Da- David… harder.”

“Alright.” He hushed. “But I’m not gonna last long, Y/N.” 

“Neither am I, that’s why I asked.” 

He leaned forward with a gentle tilt to his head, planting a delicate kiss to signal the end of his gentleness. True to his word, he spurred the faster pace of our movements and I helplessly crossed my legs over his back, my nails digging into his back while I tried silencing my louder mewls against his neck. It felt like too much all at once, like water building up behind the weakening wall of a dam just about to break with the slightest provocation. He evidently had the same feelings: his arms wrapping tightly low on my back to pull me even closer and his deep voice rumbling against my shoulder. The inevitable crash was rising higher over our heads as each of us fought for it, selfishly pursuing the high and trying to take it as quickly as we could reach it. I won the race, biting down at the base of his neck when I felt it and all my muscles losing tension enough to make me fall limply into the grasp of his arms. 

My frame was indelicately dropped back down over the bed as a recitation of “fuck” groaned out from his lips and the tension left his body, including the arms that had been holding onto me. His torso was flush against mine in those last few forced thrusts, like he could only drag himself to reach release with the remnants of his dwindling energy. His head curled against my shoulder when he finally felt it come over him with his arms resting on either side of me and a final monotone hum on his swollen lips. Cum spurted in streams into me and the realization of what just occurred dawned in my mind. Though I didn’t regret the impulsivity of it all; I was rather glad to have finally solicited an honest interview from him. 

David slowly rose from the ashes, lifting himself up by the arms just to drop his frame at my side and removing his weight from on top of me. But his head curled back into place on my shoulder, leaving a kiss there before moving away and looking into my eyes for some sort of hint into my thoughts. He was probably coming to the same realization that I had, likely thinking that I had a more tentative surety of the events between us. 

“What?” I implored, urging him to clear the air.

“We’ve come a long way in the past few hours, I’d just like to know whether you carry any regret about acting on a whim.”

“Not at all.” I stated. “Though I do still absolutely despise you.”

That garnered a laugh out of David as he came up with a perfect reply: “You know, they say there’s a fine line between love and hate…” He began, trying to rile me up again and earning a light smack to the chest.


	145. something new (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw duh

request: "might I submit a fic request for the reader pegging Jimmy? can be as romantic and/or kinky as you feel like :)" 

“Anything you want.” 

Those were the words that he would damn by the end of the day. They were spoken to me in a sweet voice the morning of my birthday in the pale sunlight softened by the hotel’s white window sheers, hours before I came to collect on the offer. He’d been too occupied with the whirlwind of tour life around him to notice when I slipped out to explore the city streets in pursuit of a few materials that would be necessary for later. By the time the entourage was preparing to leave for the venue, everything had been acquired and plans were set in place. Jimmy was in for a hell of a surprise and he was in no position to refuse, given this morning’s open offer.

Watching him perform only made me so much more emboldened into fulfilling the idea that had been on my mind all day, initially inspired by a particularly experimental night a few weeks ago and now wishing to seek out my revenge. The windswept, impulsive movements of his body that emphasized what he was playing. The impassioned expression on his face with tented brows, half-mast eyelids, and parted lips. The beading of sweat along his face and dripping down his bare chest. The perfect curling of his raven locks that were slicked against the sweat of his skin. The powerful stature he stood with before the crowd as he continued to conjure up a spell over them. The dark, clever glimmer in his eyes whenever he turned to me between solos. My veins were humming with anticipation and desire, just waiting for the moment he came offstage into my domain.

The afterparties were skipped as I vaguely requested that I wanted to have him alone with me for my choice of celebration. His friends all wished me a happy birthday one final time with kisses on cheeks, close embraces, well-wishes, and quips from shared touring experiences. But my patience ran low with the thrumming of my pulse, having Jimmy so close and yet unable to act upon my plans even after the show had ended. I whisked him off with me eagerly the moment all niceties were exchanged, earning a remark from the guitarist trailing in a quasi-sprint after me up the stairs and through the halls. The privacy of the room let me feel like I could finally breathe as I turned to him.

“Remember this morning?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“When you said I could do anything I wanted today?”

“Of course, and I meant it.” He insisted with a fond smile.

“Then let me be in charge. If you really have to limit me, say so at any point.” I directed, still refusing to hint at what exactly my plans consisted of. 

He gave me a wry look for a fraction of a second but stuck to his word, instead asking me what I wanted. I told him to relax as my hand clasped his and pulled him along behind me to the bed, letting him off right at the foot of it then requesting that he should simply stay still. A smug grin formed over his mouth when he noticed that I wasted no time in getting onto my knees, reaching up to the restraints of his trousers and unfastening them with practiced ease. He stepped out of them, combing his hands along the sides of my head as I pressed my lips lightly up the length of his thigh and paused upon reaching his hip bone. Disappointment was evident on his face when I stood up afterwards, my hands instead attaching themselves to the scarf around his neck that hid the purple bruises I’d left there days prior. I neatly placed it over the bed within arm’s reach and stifled a smile at the thus-far success of my scheme.

“Turn around for me so I can take off your jacket.” I instructed, intending to keep him in this position for a while longer than he anticipated. 

He didn’t resist at all and expectantly slipped his shirt up over his head once I’d placed the jacket over the back of a nearby chair. Only as he began to turn around to face me again did I halt him: “No, you stay this way.” 

“What for?”

“You’ll find out.” 

Jimmy’s bitter silence was a signal that he wasn’t too happy being the one ordered around and unable to foresee what was going to happen. I reached for his scarf again, retying it just tightly enough around his wrists low behind his back. His head peeked over his shoulder at me as he tried to observe what I was doing, genuine curiosity written over his flushed face rather than the utter discomfort I expected to see. I kissed his right shoulder then continued in a line to the left, brushing my fingers through his long hair as it had gotten in my way. With a simple request for him to remain in place once again, I began to disrobe and snuck over to my acquired materials from earlier in the day. I had been so red-faced going about getting them but it was worth the present payoff, as long as Jimmy was alright with the things I had in mind. He looked so clueless -- a new state for him to be in around me -- I wanted to finally take out all of the pent-up frustration he caused in that impassioned show of music-making on that stage and every other one I’d seen him play on. 

Having scanned over instructions and reasoning through exactly how to proceed with this new experience for the both of us, I didn’t have to stall him for too long in changing out undergarments with a bottle of lube in hand. If it wasn’t for my dead-set mind on fulfilling this idea and the desirous stroke of courage running through my veins, I would’ve felt uncertain or silly in doing this with someone so notorious for maintaining a perfect sense of control over every detail he could. But I wanted it badly enough to push his boundary as far as he would permit me. 

I cleared my throat when I was back to standing a pace or so behind him: “Widen your stance a bit and lean forward.”

“Now I’m very intrigued by where your imagination’s taken you, darling.” 

“And you’ll find out soon enough.” I remarked sternly, kneeling back down and manipulating his wondering mind just a bit longer before I revealed my true intentions. 

My hands grasped over his legs for stability as I leaned forward and licked a stripe along the underside of his cock. I especially paid attention to his balls once I reached them, using the advantageous new angle to lap and suck at them while he tried to keep steady in his standing position. The sensation made him curse, immediately sink further forward, and clutch at the duvet cover before him -- unknowingly getting into a perfect posture for what I intended to do next. I gave him a few more moments of attention like this before releasing him from my mouth with a faint pop and taking a second to catch my breath before daring to reveal what was next on my agenda. 

“Tell me ‘no’ if you aren’t okay with any of this.” I reminded him while squirting a little bit of the bottle’s contents over the tips of my index and middle fingers then spreading a liberal coating over them. 

“You’re starting to scare me a bit, Y/N.” He chuckled lightly.

I straightened up to reassuringly kiss the base of his back, simultaneously giving my fingers a chance to reach up and sneak into position. At first, I only delved my index finger gradually beyond the edge of the indentation low along his backside’s crevice -- testing the waters and giving him plenty of opportunity to halt me, but he never did. Instead came a deep hum from his parted lips and a dark chuckle when the initial surprise wore off of him, inciting a ripple through up from my core through my stomach. I halted upon seeing his face turn towards me over his shoulder, thinking that he would warn me against going any further in this endeavor, instead greeting me with a devilish grin on his face. 

“My, my… I didn’t realize you had such wicked interests.” Jimmy remarked in a smoky tone interlaced with pleased surprise.

I remained in-character as I began a smooth rhythm for my finger pumping in and out of him: “We’re only just getting started, Jimmy.” 

“I’m at your service, my temptress.”

His new nickname for me spurred my middle finger to join in, at first only in a smooth rhythm for him to get used to the sensation. A thick breath expelled itself through his nose and they turned to groans when my fingertips prodded further, searching for the one spot that would make him weak in the knees. I pushed inwards, reaching and searching along his wall then drawing back unsuccessfully. Then I tried again in a new spot, pressing a kiss to the outer curve of his hip and still finding myself unsuccessful. But the third time was the charm -- my success at finding his sensitive prostate being illustrated by the loud “oh fuck” that rumbled from the base of his throat and his arms letting his frame weakly collapse over the bed. Satisfaction saturated every fibre of my body, even more so when I watched him clutch onto the sheets with white knuckles and his hips occasionally curving inwards seeking relief against the bed as I continued to tease the spot.

Jimmy rose his head from its place buried in the duvet, his strained voice calling to me in a plea that gave way to a slight desperation: “You’d better stop that if you have any plans aside from fingering my ass.”

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you or made an attempt to get you ready.” 

Reaching for the bottle as I straightened back up into a standing position, I took note of the picture before me. A dark wood headboard against a white wall with a stack of fluffed pillows against it. A patterned duvet cover over the wrinkled sheets that all drew back to the talented hands of a guitarist. An array of raven waves splayed over the mussed bedding and the contrastingly pale pallor of his limp frame collapsed over the edge of the bed. Only a crescent of his rosy face peeking through his hair, his eyes shut and mouth open to allow his erratic gasping breaths to pass as he was overcome by the stimulation. His thin legs lined up unruly along the flat edge of the bed, leaning inwards for any semblance of stability to keep from falling to the floor. And I wasn’t even done. 

My hand spread the squirted blots of lube into a slick layer over the plastic dildo as Jimmy propped himself back up onto his elbows after recovering the steadiness of his breaths. He likely knew what was awaiting him and, to my surprise, still didn’t show me any pause. Perhaps it was just him indulging me for my birthday and figuring that he could let me get even with him after so much of his own experimentation over me. My hand smoothed along his spine, at first delicately then firmer as I grasped at his hip the way he usually did. I wanted to push forward all the way fervently. Dig my fingers into his skin and reach the other hand to pull at his hair. Bite into the backside of his shoulder. Just slick and dirty and impatient. But I had to work my way up to that point from a gentle start, giving a warning and starting to tilt my hips forward with slight resistance from him at the welcome intrusion.

“Ah- shit! Slow and easy, Y/N, please.” He beseeched with a gravelly tone, his breath caught in his throat.

Little by little, I leaned further forward by my hips until he’d taken all of it. As I started to retreat back, he pleaded for me to hold still for a moment and allow him some time to adjust as heavy breaths shuddered through his whole torso. He whined and clutched the duvet closer in towards him like he was seeking shelter or a shock-absorber within it. The side of his face clearly displayed the overwhelmed state of his body: neck curling inwards, mouth falling open even wider in a silent scream, black brows knit tighter together, eyelids wrinkled firmly shut, tense muscles slowly relaxing with each short breath. He looked so beautiful in this submissive, overpowered state that I selfishly wanted more from him.

I leaned forward to kiss his back, the skin far warmer than he’d been before as though he was burning up, and whispering a question of permission into his ear: “Can I move, Jimmy?” 

He took a deep breath and nodded with his eyes starting to open again, “You can do whatever you want with me. I did promise you ‘anything’ today and you’re being so acquiescing to me for your own birthday.” 

My hand brushed away stray locks of hair that had fallen disheveled over his face, “I wasn’t planning to be cruel to you or put you in any pain. I’d hardly call that acquiescing but, if you insist, I can play rough with you.” 

“Prove yourself to me, Y/N.” He taunted, a wicked grin etched over his lips. 

That was the spark that granted me permission to finally relieve the darker, avaricious temper building up inside me after all this time. My hips retracted, leaving just the very tip buried within him before brusquely pushing halfway through in one motion. The tension returned to his frame as he writhed and whimpered in response, immediately asking for more. Now my temper was starting to rise in heat waves, emboldening me and getting my blood pumping harder into this less forgiving demeanor. I pushed in the rest of the way and fisted a hand through his hair, using it as a grip to tug him up into a straighter position for me. He was now leaned over with his hands still grasping at the bedding but standing up and letting his weight rest on his weakened legs before me. After I released my grip from his hair, I raked my nails down his back as I found a new grip at the other side of his hip.

I focused the isolation of my body movement to my low abdomen and hips, starting with a relatively even rhythm of undulation. The evenness was soon thrown off with Jimmy starting to join into the movement, speeding up the pace to spur me into pushing harder, and the soft cries falling from between his reddened lips threatening to crack his voice. The sounds he was making combined with the sharp slap of skin against skin made ripples of pleasure spread through my midsection in a way I’d never felt before. I could feel he was about to crash even before he gave me a gasped warning, his body starting to give out beneath me and lean back forward, awash in the rise of a climax. 

“F-Fucking hell, Y/N… I didn’t expect that from you, but shit- you’re a delight.” He confessed through heavy breaths after collapsing down over the bed and turning his head to face me as I let the dildo slip out from within him.

Sweat slicked the skin of my underarms and forehead, unnoticed until now when things had finally calmed down by the fulfillment of my plans. I carelessly unfastened the device from my body, completely bare to cool off as I collapsed beside a recovering Jimmy. My arms kept me propped up as I caught my breath, letting my eyes sweep sideways to his shifting frame. He mimicked my position, a rosy flush over his face and a satisfied smile on his swollen lips to distract from the partially smeared pearls of cum sticky over his navel as well as soaked into the bedding below him. The vulgar sight gave me inspiration for one final act of defilement, leaning over to clean off his low abdomen and teasing his burnt-out senses with my eyes focused on his tormented face. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’ll be the death of me if you keep this up.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back to his head as I lapped up the last remainder of it until he straightened up with purpose: “Don’t swallow.”

Letting him have his way, I stayed fixed in place as he leaned over me and pressed our lips together with a fervor to part mine immediately -- no patient tease or gradual lead into it. His tongue delved into my mouth, gathering a mixture of my saliva and his c back into his own before parting from me with a smack. Jimmy kept his lips pursed as he moved lower, bending down at the floor by the foot of the bed between my knees and letting a stream of his mouth’s contents descend onto my core. I squirmed as the liquid dripped lower, across my folds, just before his mouth came to lap it all back up in combination with my own fluids. It was so filthy and debauched but so arousing, bringing me closer to climax even faster after being on edge for so long. My back arched up against the sheets, unable to stay still or relax any part of my body as he mumbled dirty encouragements for me to let go onto his awaiting tongue.

I was already starting to cry out for him when he slipped two of his fingers in below his mouth and found my most sensitive spot as though it were second nature to him, lifting his head for a moment to coerce me further: “You’re almost there, darling, come on and let me give you your fifth orgasm of the day.”

My legs instinctively crossed behind his back as everything seemed to go blank for an instant, a blinding white heat washing over me and numbing out the rest of my senses for a few seconds until it slowly came back to my consciousness. A self-satisfied smirk curled Jimmy’s glistening lips as he stood up and reclined himself back over the center of the bed with his head against the pillows. His arms guided me up to join him as I tried to collect my breath. Little aftershocks still made me tremble, especially as thoughts of what we just did flashed back into mind. His light kisses to my sweat-coated forehead brought me back to the present. 

“I don’t believe I mentioned this earlier, but we taste absolutely divine together.” 

I laughed, lightly smacking his chest for the comment. 

“And, once again, happy birthday. I hope you were able to do what you wanted to.” 

I gave him a look, “You know I did. Though I’m wondering if you just did that for the sake of it being my birthday or actually having interest in those sorts of things.”

“A combination of both. But you were quite skilled for a novice.” He complimented, charmingly bringing the back of my hand to his lips.

“So, you wouldn’t mind doing something similar again?” I inquired. 

“The student has indeed become the master.” He remarked vaguely with a chuckle as his arm crooked loosely over my torso and we finally settled down for the night, or rather, early morning.


	146. all i wanna do is... (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw

request: "If you’re still taking requests: can I pretty please get a Robert Plant with an “All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You” theme? ( @earthfire-75 )"

I woke to the feeling of a hand tracing the line of my hip down to where it crept into my inner thigh, the touch featherlight as it reached further. Also came the realization that the singer that had been lying beside me was now radiating body heat from cloaking over me. My eyes slowly blinked open, revealing a rich hue of darkened gold coloring my surroundings and confirming my presumption. I shifted around to face the languidly prowling Robert, finding myself trapped between the close set position of his arms and knees around me. Despite the dim light of the sun peeking through the drawn curtains, I could still see a flame in his eyes and the hungry expression on his face. Those two factors told me all I needed to know about why he was so energetic rather than jetlagged, not to mention the prod of his e against my legs. 

“Mornin’ Y/N.” He greeted, his voice raspy. 

I stretched as best as I could in my limited space, “Good morning, I can tell you’re happy to see me.”

“It’s quite fortunate we get the day off, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, so we can sleep in and adjust to the time difference.”

His hand traced along the line of my jaw as he shook his head, “We’ll just be off somewhere else in a few days so no point in trying to adjust. I think there’s a far better alternative to while away the day with.” 

“And if I’m tired?” 

He leaned down, pressing his lips to my sternum and glancing up from the closer vantage, “You can rest. But something tells me you’re not as tired as you say you are.” 

“Oh really?” 

“You seem plenty awake to me now. And after all, you slept through half the flight and had at least another five hours of sleep when we got into the room.” 

“Fair point.” I answered vaguely, a smile threatening to show itself on my face.

“Does this mean you need some convincing, Y/N?” He narrowed his eyes at me, an eager grin etched on his face and coaxing his dimples into plain sight.

I played off a nonchalant attitude and shrugged, “If you really think you can win me over.”

His brows raised, accepting my challenge with a plan already in mind as his lips reconnected to where they’d been moments before. Their path spanned up to my neck first, tracing my skin in between slow kisses until he reached my mouth. It was featherlight when we finally collided, my arms slipping from being pinned at my sides to wrap around his neck and draw him closer against me. He soon broke free, however, continuing to explore lower territory. The fairly straight path was distracted a few times -- either to pay a bit of attention to my breasts or to return to my own lips for a moment -- but he always returned back to where he stopped and kept working down my torso. The path did, ultimately, conclude at the lowest point of my navel when Robert sat up with a cocky grin at the sight of my anticipating face. 

“Have I convinced you enough yet?” He inquired.

I rolled my eyes playfully, “I suppose you have, sleep will have to wait.”

“Good. Because all I want to do…” He trailed off, leaning down to press a kiss between words: “Is. Make. Love. To. You.” 

I brushed my fingers through the corkscrewed roots of his hair, “Now that you mention it… you may have some good ideas for killing time.”

He chuckled happily at his victory then went about repositioning his face over my hips and pulled my legs up over his shoulders. The golden splay of his hair tickled my inner thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing flowery kisses further and further inwards while his hands planted around the curve of my rear to keep me in place. The lascivious curl of his tongue just barely reaching towards my center, combined with the wolfish look in his eyes, made a heat wave ripple through my stomach. Time seemed to slow down to a grinding pace, anticipation rising to an all-time high that felt like it could kill me. I writhed in initial shock when his touch finally came to me, not holding back for an instant as his tongue vigorously lapped at me. 

My whimpers and squirms seemed to make him more impassioned in his endeavor so I would grow desperately frantic at his ministrations. His one hand curled further around my leg, reaching his fingers right in between my legs so his thumb kept a firm rolling pressure over my clit, which evoked an arch of my back and the tight clutch of my hands at the sheets. It was like he was still trying to win me over and convince me to spend hours just like this -- in a private, warm repose with nothing in mind except for making each other feel impossibly good. As far as either of us were concerned, this small hotel room was the whole world and we were the only two people here with no one else around to shatter the illusion. 

I curled my fingers through his hair, tugging as gently as I could under the pleasant anguish coursing through me and pleading to him in a hushed chant: “Please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby, you taste too good.” He replied, just barely lifting his head from its resting place at the top of my thighs. 

The vigorous singer didn’t even grant me time to recover after I felt the first small crash of an orgasm over me, immediately getting up on his knees and having my crossed legs drop lower down his back as he swiftly delved into me. That first moment of connection synchronized our breaths as they instantly caught in our throats, releasing thickly from our dropped-open mouths once the initial shock dissolved. I reached to his shoulders with my fingers desperately digging into the skin, holding on for dear life at the sensitivity of my nerves that were still going through aftershocks and knowing that it was only going to grow more intense. My breaths shuddered through me -- I was coming close again -- and I could tell that he was right along with me given his strained cries, the narrow lidding of his eyes, the backwards tilt of his head. 

I let my hand trail down over his stomach, teasing him to reach a climax just a little faster based on the growl he responded with and a harder force behind the movement of his hips. He arched forward with a finality, tightly grasping at my sides and pushing as deep as he could go. His thumb brushed over me more vigorously, making me teeter over the edge and crash just as he collapsed into my shoulder with a groan, spilling warmth within me then staying in place for a moment while the waves of ecstasy soothed enough. The singer rolled off to my side with his arms still draped over me as both of us took a moment to rest before starting up again. He rose slowly to his elbows and turned to the bedside table, looking back to me with a Cheshire cat grin etched onto his face.

“It’s been about an hour... if we give it a rest at seven for dinner and then have a last go and sleep, we could go for another four rounds this afternoon.” 

I laughed, “Since when did you keep a schedule?” 

“It’s only for very important events.” He assured, leaning over to connect our lips and start up again.


	147. memories (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '75 Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: none, short & very sweet

request: "Hey pal! I have a concept/request: '75 Jimmy and reader are hanging out at reader's apartment. Reader goes away to do something (a chore, etc.), and Jimmy finds a box of polaroids and handwritten notes and stuff that reader has saved from him over the years. Then: epic love profession 😂Thank you so much! 💘💘💘"

“Darling, where’s that book I was talking to you about earlier?” Jimmy called from the other room. 

“The one you let me borrow while you were gone on the last tour?” I asked back, adjusting the bracelet round my wrist as I stepped away from the bathroom mirror.

“Yes, that one.” 

“It should be in my closet, on the top shelf.” 

“Ah, I see it. Thank you.” 

I stepped into the living room to settle into the sofa to finish reading over some paperwork, waiting for Jimmy to return with his book in hand to take back to his home and so we could go meet one of his business friends for dinner. But he didn’t walk back in the next few minutes, and everything was perfectly silent. As strange as it sounded, it made me suspicious as to what was going on. I stood up to investigate after having finished skimming the document, roaming down the hall and spotting him still in my room. He was seated on the floor with his back to me, his book at his side, and something else evidently capturing his attention before him. 

Hearing my footsteps, he turned, “You really kept all of these things?” 

I knit my brows in perplexion and stepped closer, peeking over his sitting frame to see what he had found. It was the empty shoe box I filled over the past two years with letters, postcards, ticket stubs, polaroid photographs, magazine clippings about the band, posters from their concerts, dried flowers kept from bouquets, and all sorts of other small mementos that came from him. Many were now spread over the floor around him, the box itself still half-full. Each one had a story of how or when I received the item and a few popped into mind as I glanced over the mosaic of sentimental items.

There was a pure astoundment in his wide eyes and rosy-cheeked face as he held a particular photograph in between his fingers. I gave him a small smile, slightly embarrassed that he found the box in the first place but nodding in reply to his question. He carefully rose to his feet, ensuring that he didn’t accidentally step onto something and taking a step closer to me. His hand reached out to cup over my cheek and there was a soft glow to his eyes as he leaned in to press a flowery kiss to my lips. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed over my cheek and a gentle smile curved his pink lips in endearment of my little collection. 

“You really are a treasure.” The guitarist commented quietly, as though to himself. “I don’t think I fully realized it before to this degree, but finding all these marks of our time together… it’s touching and I can’t believe that you would’ve kept everything for all this time. It’s made me realize in the last two minutes or so, honestly and seriously, that I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you… I love you.” 

“Jimmy, of course I would keep all of these things -- they mean so much to me because they came from you and reminded me that you’d be coming home whenever you were gone.”

“And?” He inquired, a childish hope in his gaze as he waited to hear me return his confession. 

I smiled, “And I love you too.”

His arms embraced me and he pulled me close, mumbling against the curve of my shoulder: “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I think I was waiting for you to say it first and too afraid to say anything myself before just now.” 

I drew back, our arms still looped around the other’s body, “Were you afraid I wouldn’t say it back?”

“A little.” He admitted.

“You silly man.” I shook my head in disbelief, threading a hand up through his hair and bringing his face close enough for me to chastely kiss him. “We can pick up on this later, right now we’ve got to get going or we’ll be late for our dinner plans.”


	148. creation (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '73 Jimmy Page x fem!reader who's a guitarist too  
> Warnings: none!

request: "okay, but i really would love to read something about 73' jimmy's guitar duet with a rockstar!fem!reader, please?"

We sat together at the home studio, facing each other with guitars in our laps as we bounced ideas off of each other. It was too rainy outside for us to sit in the open space and compose anything together, besides, this way we could use all of our amps or other electric equipment that we couldn’t use out there. I watched his lithe fingers move along the fretboard as he played a melody for me, coming up with complementary harmony parts or an accompanying duet line that picked up the melody from him once he concluded it. We were weaving a piece of music together, intertwining each of our individual ideas into one collaborative piece that unified our playing and freely flowing between the changes in tone that each of us came up with in the moment. It was like magic, like we could read each other’s minds yet be surprised by how the other chose to continue the melody or accompany it. I only stopped us on occasion to write some notation down, the finger patterns too fresh to be in our muscle memories quite yet but too important to forget. 

“Play that last line of your part again, I want to try something new and maybe add some dissonance beneath you.” He requested, replacing his fingers into a different chord. 

Fulfilling his request, I scanned over the sheet of notation and played my last melody section with a little more dynamic emphasis as I grew more confident playing it. My ears pricked up to the new accompaniment, hearing him beginning to strum at a darker chord before shifting to a resolving chord by the end of my part. Matching smiles grew over our faces, both of us concluding that it was a perfect change and I leaned over to correct the notation on my paper before handing off the next melody section to him. I wanted to do something complicated subtly underneath the vast notes that Jimmy played out with a yearning, narrowing vibrato but found myself in awe of his idea, stopping immediately once he finished playing to fawn at his brilliant, evocative composition. He bashfully brushed off the praise and insisted that I should write it down with my own “brilliant” accompaniment. 

I gave him one more compliment before noting his chord progression down and approximate note lengths, figuring out what sort of things I could play with his part to bring out its beauty. It couldn’t be too distracting, but just right for emphasizing the soaring legato notes. Jimmy stood up, excusing himself to get something to drink and leaving me to write since he could tell that I was putting a lot more intentional thought behind this one. He leaned down to plant a kiss at the crown of my head along his path and observed me from a distance as I quietly noodled around in attempt to come up with a suitable idea. I hummed the part as best as I could, trying and re-trying to find how to support it. Playing faster notes could be distracting, like the sound of a train chugging along or flicking a switch on and off. Just playing whole notes wouldn’t really emphasize anything but rather make my part almost silent. So I started to work off of different intervals of his same line -- playing notes that were the same distance apart but transcribed into another key to illustrate the melody itself in two separate lines of notes. 

Giddy with my discovery, I started playing my transcribed part and mirroring the phrasing of how he played it just minutes before. It sounded good, a little more mysterious and murky in comparison to his part that would add a tone of somberness to be resolved in the next few lines for a happier ending. I noted it down with an excited smile, putting my pen down to play through the part a few more times to really solidify it so we could play our parts together without me lagging. The click of a shutter during my fourth practice round drew away my attention from the creative flow I’d just been in, seeing a grinning Jimmy holding up a polaroid camera in his hands and flapping around the printed photograph until colors started appearing on the sheet. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You looked so thrilled and immersed in writing, I had to take a picture.” He explained, holding out the almost fully-appeared photo for my scrutiny.

I was smiling. Truly and genuinely smiling, with my frame leaning over the guitar caringly as my fingers were creating a beautiful new part out of its strings. The note paper and pen were lying just within my reach on the other chair, the rest of the studio fuzzy behind me. I looked up to Jimmy, trying to stifle a grin as I stole the photograph from his hand, and assured him that I would get my revenge when the moment came. He retook his seat after placing the camera by my notes, the guitar saddled over his lap as he blew off my threat and suggested we continue. There was a happy gleam in his eyes and a lively vigor within his demeanor that only made itself known when he was dedicating himself like this to his craft. I was just fortunate to experience it so often and be able to inspire it by asking him to come play together for a while. 

Another hour or so of writing resulted in a finished rough draft with a few edits in it already. It was something like a Romantic era piece, emotion-sweeping and dramatic rather than solely technical. In its current form, the piece would probably take upwards of four minutes to play through given the slow tempo and elongated notes that only occasionally sped up for effect. The both of us discussed how it sounded something like the view of a misted-over morning that slowly cleared away over a meadow as the sun rose and illuminated everything in a golden dawn. In fact, that was what we named it. And also the caption that he scrawled in his neat, quasi-cursive handwriting on the polaroid picture he took of me through the process.


	149. steal away (david coverdale x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: David Coverdale x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw
> 
> ah yes, more self-indulgent shit no one asked for that popped into my head after watching waayyyy too many audrey hepburn movies

It felt like ages had passed since they’d last seen each other, at least from David’s perspective as he went about her aunt’s request to seek out the girl somewhere on the well-kept grounds of her home. But she wasn’t under the shade of the flowering cherry blossom trees nor sitting on a bench near the white stone fountain nor hiding somewhere between the tall, manicured hedges. Instead, she lay just beyond the extent of the grounds, amidst the wild and long grasses of a meadow that grew into a thicker forest further into the distance. The sun shone over her peaceful expression and wildflowers seemed to sprout from her splayed hair. She looked different than in the years before when their families were closer friends, somewhat older but still quiet and thoughtful. Though, after all, she’d really only been a child back then and a very sheltered one at that. All of her schooling was done through private tutors that came to the house and all the materials taught to her were monitored by her guardians. She rarely got to see anyone outside of the house so he had been one of her only friends.

“Y/N?” He finally called, remembering why he’d come out here in the first place.

She jolted out of her serene reverie, sitting up immediately and brushing off her clothes before staring wide-eyed at the owner of the unfamiliar voice. Her knit brows conveyed her reaction as she remained silent and hastily stood up to her feet. Looking into her bewildered, yet curious eyes confirmed that this was indeed the very same Y/N -- only taller, older, and with a wiser shade to her face. It took her a moment for her confusion to dissipate as she leaned forward, studying him until realization dawned on her and she smiled.

“I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t recognize you for a moment.” She confessed, her voice lyrical and emphatic. “How are you, David?”

He returned her friendly expression, glad to not have to re-introduce himself to her and able to skip back into a catch-up discussion covering the previous few years. “Better now that I’ve got more pleasant company than everyone in the house. I see why you were evading them.”

Her head tilted low, “You know how everyone is -- they’ve always been that way and they’ve got my best interests at heart even if it doesn’t seem so.” 

“Have you left here at all since the last time I saw you?” 

“Of course, we always go on holidays in the late summer. Usually for a change of scenery or they have something to do with family business and I’ve been taught to handle some of those responsibilities.” 

A quiet moment passed, knowing that it was a subject that couldn’t really be pushed further so soon and David beckoned her to join him in a walk back inside: “I was sent to find you and bring you back with me, so let’s not keep everyone waiting much longer, yeah?”

Y/N flitted to his side, a hint of childish nature still shining through the eloquent and composed stature she was groomed into. The genuineness returned to her cheerful face that brightened to complement the color of her dandelion yellow blouse which was neatly tucked into her tight black horseback riding trousers that disappeared into a pair of black leather calf-high boots. She asked him further about his music, remembering that it was one subject he would never tire of discussing enthusiastically and would always bring a glow to his face. Her memory served her right as the singer delved into pleasant moments of his professional experiences and acquired the familiar glow as he recounted each one. He shifted into recollecting memories from their shared time along the walk back to the house, seeing shadows of the past springing up behind trees and benches lining the path. 

Y/N began to laugh at the mention of a particularly amusing game that he taught her one of the times his family visited hers and made a past memory of her own: “Oh, what a crush I had on you back then. You were so nice to me and different from any of the rigid people I’d ever encountered before, I don’t think it could’ve been helped. I was almost sent off to a boarding school before your musical departure was announced, did you know that?” 

Curiosity marked his features, “What for?” 

“They thought you would become a bad influence on me, that you’d perhaps sway me into leaving behind everything set into place for me like some silly melodrama. I wasn’t quite as foolish as they thought but anything I said, they rejected as an excuse to stay closer to you. But then you left and they weren’t worried anymore. ” She explained with a chuckle. “And now here you are -- hair long past your shoulders, the world in the palm of your hand, marauding for at least four months out of the year... a veritable bad influence now.” 

“Are you suggesting I leave again?” He quipped.

“Not at all. Just a warning in case their suspicion wins and I’m shipped off elsewhere in the next few days of your stay here.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Their conversation hushed as they approached the glass doors of the sunroom and turned through the hallways back to where everyone else was located. An expression of neutrality veiled Y/N’s expression as she sat down, perfectly postured, and seldomly added a strategic comment into the discussion. She silenced herself after noting how nothing she said was taken into consideration, despite her remarks being clever. But her frame stiffened when they began to speak of David and prodded shamelessly into his life, making open commentaries in criticism of anything he said. Y/N defensively forced herself back into the conversation until the tension resulted in a cutting silence. 

“Why don’t you show our guest to the library, Y/N?” One of the critics directed, forcing a change in the room’s dynamics and brushing her off yet again. 

She nodded and motioned for the singer to follow her out of the room, navigating her way to the directed room with the crestfallen expression of a scolded child. It was lucky that the library was far from the other room -- at a considerable distance that didn’t allow them to hear the scathing conversation continue. The dark wood shone with a cherry hue in the sunlight streaming in through the tall windows and leather-bound books with gold inscriptions lined the expanse of every wall. Y/N silently approached one of the bay windows and seated herself against a pillow, crossing her legs up over the seat cushion. David joined her, seating himself directly across and studying her stoic face in wonder of how she had yet to show a shade of frustration. He glanced away when her eyes flickered back up to him. 

“Are you alright? I hope you don’t take what they say to heart.” She began. 

“I’m just wondering how you manage to handle them all the time… and they don’t even let you go anywhere to escape them.” 

Y/N looked out the window and didn’t reply. He knew he pressed enough on the subject, it just seemed like such a difficult environment to live in that he noted how strong she must’ve been for putting up with it. With a sigh, he shifted the subject again. 

“You know, boarding schools aren’t exactly the most ideal places for keeping an impressionable girl on a ‘virtuous’ path. The stories I’ve heard about some of them are quite the opposite of that principle.” 

She turned to face him, “What do you mean? Aren’t they strict and rigorous places where you have to study endlessly to actually succeed?” 

He bit back a grin at her naivety and tried to make his words as delicate as possible: “Not necessarily… limited supervision still makes for sneaky students, if you understand what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, letting his gaze wander to the window while wondering how in the world they managed to shelter Y/N this strongly. 

“Let’s leave it at this: there are ways of gaining favors with the people who determine your success.”

“Like volunteering to do nice things for professors? Grading papers for them and such.”

He chuckled softly, “How old are you again, darling?”

“Twenty. And you’re twenty-six. I don’t see what numbers have to do with anything.”

“Fucking hell…” He muttered. “You can’t be serious. You’ve never been exposed to anything that wasn’t feathery poetry or math equations?”

“You know I studied much more than that.” 

“And yet not nearly enough practical information.” He commented. “We should go outside if we’re having this conversation, easier to spot if someone’s eavesdropping and I’d rather not give them reason to validate their suspicions of me.” 

“Alright.” She stood up from her seat nonchalantly. “I’m sorry if I seem clueless, I think I know what you’re hinting at but frankly my knowledge is limited so I can’t be certain.”

But as they began to exit the library, a call of their names steered them towards the dining hall for dinner. David whispered that they could resume the conversation tomorrow and allowed her to lead the way, bracing himself for interacting with her guardians as well as some of his own relatives that finally arrived. Y/N conducted herself with the same astounding control and requested to be excused the moment she had quickly finished her dinner, seeking solace alone in her room. She could still hear muffled voices talking from the other room as she went up the stairs and shut the door to her room, quietly shifting the lock in place so no one could come disturb her. 

After a restorative bath, the girl sat against the headboard in her nightgown with a blanket pulled up around her and a stack of books at her side. She lit a set of candles and rifled through the pages of the first book to her page marker. Yet her mind couldn’t focus on the lines of text, finding herself having to read over one paragraph at least three times before she actually processed the words. She set the book aside again, reclining down into her bed and staring out into the darkening night outside while her mind wandered freely. The flickering of the candle flames caught her attention for a few moments as she let go of the remainder of mental restraint she exhibited throughout the day. Y/N found her mind shifting to her reunification with David, a happy disbelief filled her from the moment she realized who he was and so did a reawakened sense of sentiment towards him. 

She was helpless to those feelings again and a smile crept to her lips as she saw him reappear in her mind. The comforting brown of his eyes that always seemed so friendly. The confident stature he had even when under pressure or uncertain in himself. The genuine smile that often curved over his naturally near-red lips. The careless curl of his dark hair that shrouded beyond his strong shoulders. The deepness of his voice and how smooth-spoken he was. The veins of his ring-clad hands, the curve of his nose, the protective edge of his demeanor, the respectful way he treated her… all of it began flooding through her mind as though a dam of infatuated thoughts she didn’t even know still existed had burst. It made her heart melt in her chest but there was also something new -- a light burn under her skin and a distinct pulse of heat pooling low in her stomach. The feeling was thrilling, but it intimidated Y/N enough to make her turn her trail of thoughts elsewhere and force herself to fall asleep. 

Morning light only made her feel more vulnerable when she remembered the previous night’s experience, trying to keep herself composed and any differences to be imperceptible once she dressed to go join everyone for breakfast. This time, the two of them were sent off on their own immediately after the meal so as not to have any interference in the “adult” conversation. Y/N felt like she was walking on eggshells rather than a path through the garden, being at his side only bringing all those sentiments back to the surface. All she could do was hope that he couldn’t see any change in her demeanor. 

They were seated on a bench along the edge of the garden, almost leaning against each other and hidden away from any stray eyes by a tall hedge wall. Y/N enthusiastically sat up suddenly, her outstretched finger pointing to a brightly-colored flower and her hushed voice alerting David that there was a hummingbird flitting around it. He leaned forward, not noticing that his hand landed over her dress-covered thigh but startling Y/N with his touch and the warm rippled reaction within her stomach that it evoked. His hand crept higher when he sat back after the hummingbird flew out of view and Y/N stiffened subtly. A comfortable silence passed between them and allowed for an easy change of subject back to their discussion from the previous afternoon. 

“If you’re alright with it, do you mind if I ask you some questions?” He tip-toed.

“Not at all, I’m an open book and you’re easy to talk to.” 

He smiled lightly as he pressed, “Please stop me if you don’t want to discuss something. But have you never had any sort of experience or even been taught much of anything about, you know, certain kinds of relationships? Not just friends or relatives or acquaintances or colleagues… but more- ?”

Y/N interrupted him as he was finding it hard to come up with the right words, “You mean romantic?”

“Sure, or purely physical… though I doubt you would have much knowledge of that given, well, yesterday.”

Y/N’s bashful smile greeted the grass at their feet as she answered him without meeting his gaze: “You’re right. And no, not enough time or anything for such things. I mean, you do recall what I said about being sent elsewhere just because you were a suspected bad influence.”

He nodded in consideration.

Y/N continued as she turned to face him, “I wish I didn’t sound so naive or clueless in such matters but I don’t suppose I had any say in it. And I trust you greatly in keeping this between us or even openly talking about it with me.” 

“You always have a say, you’ve just got to try a lot harder than most people to do what you want rather than what others want for you. And I’m honored to have your trust.” He assured her.

“I-If it wouldn’t be too strange of a request, would you help me understand better? I don’t mean to put any sort of pressure on you, but my own ignorance in this respect bothers me and no one else seems to want to tell me anything as though I’m still only five years old.” She huffed, her eyes still focused on the ground.

He gave her a look, praying that she knew what she was asking for and having to exhibit an unbelievable level of restraint to keep himself from coming onto her as he wished he could’ve the minute he saw her again. She glanced back to him expectantly and hesitantly, regretting her words already. Her hands busied themselves adjusting the loose skirt of her dress and she opened her mouth to try backtracking. 

But David interrupted her first, “You do understand the gravity of your request? I’m only asking to ensure that you’re alright with it all and don’t find yourself regretting anything in the end.” 

“I’m sure.” She nodded. “I do trust you wholeheartedly. You’re more straightforward with me and respectful of me than anyone else.” 

The singer felt gratified by her confession and shifted to face her comfortably on the bench, “I won’t do anything rash while there’s still a good chance that we could get caught, and I don’t want you getting in trouble, so let’s keep things slow out here. Besides, you might be more relaxed at night when no one will be a bother. Is that alright with you?”

“Are you asking me to join you in your room when everyone else is asleep?” 

He shrugged, “Only if you want to.” 

This time when she felt the pooling in her stomach again, she smiled knowing that it was a pleased reaction and knew that it was impossible to deny such a strong feeling. “I certainly do.” 

Their agreement made, they observed their beautiful natural surroundings and spoke of lighter topics in case someone came to retrieve them. Y/N found herself almost sleepy in the warmth of the sunshine and after how late she stayed up letting her mind wander on about him the previous night, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. David insisted that she lay down over the bench with her head in his lap, his hand just barely tracing along her face when he finally convinced her into the reclined position. Her soft breaths fell deeper as she relaxed against him and found the birdsong lulling her to sleep in combination with his gentle touch. 

The night came sooner than expected, especially after they’d whiled away the afternoon in the garden. No one bothered to inquire them about anything anymore in order to avoid unpleasant conversation arising out of conflicting thoughts. Y/N was grateful to have rested before since now she was wide awake, waiting for the last of the company to go to bed before sneaking down the hall to find David’s room. She had changed into a garb of rich blue velvet and paced the floor of her room impatiently. With the final click of a doorframe, Y/N slipped out of her room and softly stepped through the vacant hall in the dark. Two doors down to the right was his room and she succeeded to sneak inside entirely undetected through the doorway that revealed an awaiting David lying back against a stack of pillows, still dressed as before only with the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He smiled in greeting when he saw Y/N enter and dressed up in an attempt to look more sophisticated despite the innocence shining in her eyes through the dim lamplight. 

He waved her over, “We’ll have to talk quietly in case someone isn’t quite asleep yet.” 

She nodded and tentatively seated herself at the edge of his bed, curling her legs up to her body, until the singer’s hands grasped loosely at her arms to pull her closer into him. Her head nestled against his shoulder while his arm cloaked over her shoulders and their whispers began with casual remarks. But neither of them really wanted to discuss such dull things -- they were just a prelude into their true, far more pressing, thoughts being voiced. Y/N felt like she could burst at any moment lying against him like that, wanting to reach deeper but uncertain of what such a thing would consist of and afraid to make any affectionate gestures when he perhaps didn’t feel the same way about her. 

His hand lingered down the small of her back and ghosted just a few inches lower absentmindedly, but she staggered slightly in response. This time, her movement wasn’t unnoticed by David, as she was lying right over him. 

“Did I do something, Y/N?” 

“No… it’s just that I’ve noticed some kind of unfamiliar reaction whenever you hold me or touch me in certain ways.” She admitted.

He raised his brows, surprised at her complete honesty and pressing for more: “What sort of reaction?”

“It’s like a rush or a wave in my stomach and like my heartbeat becomes more noticeable.” 

“Oh baby, you’ve been too sheltered for too long… you don’t even recognize your own pleasure when you feel it.” He crooned, flattered by her remark. “And I do feel the very same way with you, Y/N.” 

Her wide eyes met his as she sat up in surprise, “Really? I just thought you only pitied me and came here just because you were obligated to.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, love.” 

She bashfully lowered her head, only to have him lifted with a curled finger under her chin. 

“If you need proof, give me your hand and place it right here.” He instructed, taking one of her wrists delicately and pressing her palm over his heart so she could feel its pulse. 

Their gazes remained connected as Y/N felt the strong, quickened beat of his heart and as she let her hand slowly roam away from the spot over his sternum. It rose up to his shoulder beneath the thin material of his shirt and she shifted to face him better, her body shifted almost opposite his at the sides of his outstretched legs only to have his hands pull her onto his lap by the curve of her hips. Their faces were a mere few inches apart and Y/N could feel her hammering pulse in her head, a warm restlessness buzzing through her veins as she now felt him beneath her as well as against her. Her hand lingered down to the next button of his shirt then paused at it, silently asking for permission to unfasten it. David smoothed a hand over her head endearingly before letting it rest over her rear. 

“Do anything you please, I’ll stop you if need be but I doubt that I’ll have to.” 

Her hips rocked over his as she leaned back to work open his shirt, rousing his erection to make itself known to her even through their clothes. Her momentary pause told him that she felt it, but apparently was spurred onwards with more vigor to her actions. Y/N was eager to learn, to experience things for herself, and to do exactly as she pleased for once -- she almost relished in the selfishness of her freedom. The permissible and pleased reaction she got from the singer only made her feel less guilty about pursuing her desires, especially the hands at her ass slowly guiding her into a rocking rhythm over him that were teaching her what to do as her exploration continued. Her fingertips brushed along the newly-bare skin of his chest, slowly daring to linger to his abdomen and following the trail of hair down the center of his navel. 

“Careful what you start.” He reminded the inquisitive girl. “Would you like me to take over for a bit?” 

She let him direct her off of his lap and to where he’d been laying, seeing him shift up over her body after he slipped the opened shirt from his shoulders. The singer coaxed her knees to part to each side of his kneeling frame, placing his hands at the hem of blue velvet and starting to ease it higher up her legs with a look in his eyes that sought permission from hers. But she acted like an onlooker rather than a receiver, observing everything and taking in every detail of what he was doing instead of feeling everything in the moment. It kept her from growing too tense or response, but she gradually gave in at David’s gentle instruction that she needed to relax and his hands smoothing over her now-exposed low abdomen, massaging away any tension there with the delicate circles of his touch. Y/N closed her eyelids lightly, feeling like she was sinking into an easygoing state and letting herself just focus on the sensations her body was picking up in each slow moment. 

A finger slipped beneath the plain cotton over her hips, curling around a particularly dampened part of it resting at her very center and sending a tingle down Y/N’s spine before the singer asked, “May these come off?” 

“Yes, David.” She whispered in a hurried voice, her expressive face pleading for him to continue.

He was cautious as he began to drag the thin material down her legs, drawing them together by the ankles so he could slip the p all the way off. They were dropped to the floor before he shifted back over her, easing her legs apart now so he could kneel between them and reach his target destination with his mouth. She permitted his maneuvers of her frame into accessible positions, resting her knees on either side of him and opening up like a blossoming flower. Her partner noticed the gleaming sheen as he leaned in closer to her soaked petals, collecting drops of their nectar delicately over the tip of his tongue. 

Y/N had never felt anything like it before, she didn’t even know such things could be done or such nerves could be awakened within her body. Her eyes stared inquisitively at David’s gentle devouring, cupping a hand over her mouth to keep from making any audible sounds as she felt her breaths grow heavier and more vocal. Her other hand reached for one of his, clutching at it tighter when she felt more overcome by the sensations low in her stomach and beyond it. His lidded eyes granted her a slight sense of privacy while they remained at his target and she felt open to observe how he could possibly make her feel so intensely good. Muscles through her legs and stomach began to tense as he lapped more fervently, finally drawing his eyes back to hers with an unfamiliar darkness clouding their warm color. She could feel the vibrations of the low hum in his throat against her sensitive center and her hand squeezed his, suddenly feeling like a great tsunami wave had crashed over her senses that finally allowed her muscles to gradually relax. There were electrifying aftershocks, smaller waves, that followed partially due to her partner latching his mouth over her and sucking any remaining gushes of her nectar as she came to her senses again. 

Her chest was heaving for air and suddenly the room felt too hot to still be dressed. The dress was tossed over to a heap on the floor and she lied back, trying to restore herself after experiencing such a rush. The singer moved over to her side, seeing the energy from before drained from her features as she tried to catch her breath. Y/N was certainly brave and unashamed of anything when she wanted to be, when she knew she could get away with it. He knew not to press further, despite how tormenting it felt to still want to take her and have her laying just beside him, instead brushing his hand over the side of her head while she lied back over the pillows.

“Do you want me to wake you so no one catches you in here with me?” He offered.

“No, I don’t think I care.” She confessed breathily. “But thank you, for everything.” 

“It was a pleasure, you just so happen to taste very sweet.” 

She chuckled and nestled into the pillow, turning to face him with the crown of her head rested over the top of his chest. His arm rested over her side and kept her close, allowing him to watch her drift off to sleep with an easy smile on her lips. Such a brave girl, he mused to himself. Quite a contrast to her usual propriety and meekness. It was a new side of her that allowed her to start requesting and exploring things for herself rather than only do what was forced upon her or expected of her; a welcome change. With their shared body heat warming the two of them, he soon found himself asleep against her too. 

They were fortunate that the bright early morning light streaming from the windows and onto their faces awakened them far earlier than anyone else. After just a few moments of repose, they rose together, speaking softly to each other as Y/N collected her discarded clothing from the floor, and then Y/N slipped away. Her feet stepped so softly that not even David could hear them right outside of his door as she made her way back to her own room. The rest of the house began to stir a long hour and a half later, but they were better off cautious than risking exposure of being caught if they spent extra time together. 

Upon seeing each other again around the breakfast table, it was difficult for him not to make a sly or kind remark to her about the previous night. Her facade, however, was far stronger and she didn’t give him much more than a passing glance as she ate neatly with a perfectly seated posture. She gave an occasional, neutral remark about her guardians reminding her of a trip to Switzerland that she would be sent on in a few months. The silently accepting and demure Y/N had returned. Everything was set in place for her without a word of her own opinion in consideration. At least until they remained inside the house, a liveliness returning to her once they walked the familiar path to their garden hideaway. 

“I’m sorry we always have to keep coming back here, but it’s the most private place over the entire estate. Unless you’d prefer to just walk around or stay inside, we’d just have to monitor ourselves more.” Y/N explained as she sat in the grassy patch by his feet.

“It’s no problem. Though there wasn’t much monitoring of ourselves last night.” He hinted with a lopsided quirk to his lips. 

Her fingers raked through the grass as she bashfully answered him, “We were afforded less caution with everyone asleep. But it was nothing short of a remarkable experience.” 

He snorted, “You talk about it like it was an opera performance or a trip to a new city.” 

“You are a performer, are you not? And you’re certainly worldly in some sense…” 

“Ha! I suppose you’re right, clever girl.” He looked down to her fondly. “I’m glad you don’t regret anything and found it pleasurable, especially as your first impression.”

“A wonderful first impression, you’ve taught me that tasting the forbidden fruit of knowledge is certainly worth the risk.” Y/N played along, mischief marking her features.

“Oh I see, we’re playing a game now...” He bent down nearer to her ear. “One with an impertinent, naive little girl and a corruptive snake that tempted her into tasting what lie beyond the few things she had been exposed to before.”

She turned over her shoulder to face him, their noses a mere inch apart and her eyes gazing just beneath it at his mouth as she answered coyly: “A fitting age-old story, don’t you think?”

“They do say history repeats itself.” 

“Hmm, though I don’t think the girl made it to get a second bite of the apple which goes against my own aspirations.” 

“Oh really?” He cocked an eyebrow at her unfamiliar boldness. “Do tell, Y/N.”

“Perhaps this heroine wishes to gain more knowledge, as much as she can while evading repercussions for her insatiable curiosity.” 

His grin widened as he brought a hand under her chin, tilting up her head so their lips could meet for the first time. Y/N leaned up into him, as though a string was pulling her upwards from the top of her head and making her back straighten impossibly tall. Her hands pressed over his mid-thighs for stability and she came up to her knees, returning his ardor as best as she could from her place on the ground. The sweet innocence of the kiss shifted into an electricity, David very slightly leading into fulfilling her request. His tongue pressed against her shut lips, urging them to part for him, and she submitted to his wishes from her own intrigue. Once he gained access into her mouth, his tongue began coaxing hers into a response and teaching her what to do. Her pulse beat wildly and heavily against her chest, quickened at the excitement of yet another new experience under her belt. But it ended all too soon, or perhaps she couldn’t get enough to satisfy her inquisitive nature, when David broke them apart. He felt very self-satisfied seeing how affected she had been by his simple gesture, her face bewildered and unfulfilled. 

“To be continued.” He insisted, taking her hand and guiding her back up to her feet as they strolled around the rest of the garden together engaged in a veiled conversation. 

Night fell in its usual routine, and Y/N ventured out of her room again once everything in the house fell silent. She was evidently bolder today given her clever silver tongue that afternoon and how she so easily drifted to him again, seating herself between his knees with determination written all over her face. The safety she felt with him and the undeniable attraction she felt towards him made her more confident in her pursuits. David observed her with a welcome perplexion, slightly startled when a hand unabashedly reached over the zipper of his pants upon her perceptive eyes catching the tent through the black-stained denim. A doe-eyed gaze met his with an inquiry as her fingers latched onto the zipper itself. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” 

“Returning the favor. I may not know exactly what I’m doing but I’m not entirely ignorant.” 

“If you really want to…” 

“I do.” She affirmed with full certainty. “Don’t you remember your role in this game? You’re supposed to teach me… guide me further into these things.”

He shook his head subtly, feeling like this side of Y/N would be the death of him, and sighed: “As you wish, darling. Just be careful.” 

She smiled in satisfaction, happy to get her way so simply, and her hand unfastened the restraints of his jeans. He helped her remove the clothes over his hips as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, granting her whatever access she wished in advance. She lied down on her stomach, leaning forward to press her lips to his hip bone as her hand reached up in a delicate touch up his thigh then grasped low between them at his balls rather than the base of his shaft -- as if somehow knowing that her choice in hand placement would earn a bigger reaction from him. The look on his face made that clear: raised brows, wide eyes, dropped jaw, and marks of surprise that reflected how he didn’t believe that a simple touch would affect a man such as himself so deeply. Her eyes drank in his expression delightfully as she leaned forward with her mouth lolling open before the weeping head of his cock. She used his technique from the previous night at first, kitten licking and lightly sucking over it. His hands reached out to guide her better, holding any loose strands of her hair back from interfering while urging her lower down along his length. Somehow, she knew to keep her hand grasping at him with a gentle shifting squeeze as her mouth worked over him. 

“Fuck, you’re a quick learner.” David complimented in a low rumble of his hushed voice.

She lifted her mouth from him with a quiet pop, “Thank you. I’ve got a wonderful teacher, you know.” 

“You should be careful keeping that up much longer.” He warned. 

“And why’s that?”

“I won’t be able to hold back and you’ll end up with a mess, either on your hand or in your mouth.”

“Do I have to stop?”

“Well…” He trailed off, slightly flustered. “Not necessarily, cleaner if you keep it in your mouth.”

The new information made her follow with the latter option, sucking harder and bobbing her head the way he taught her to. His one hand remained over the top of her head, a variable weight that guided the depth of her movements, while the other fisted at the sheets beside him. He couldn’t help but roll his head back at the sight of Y/N with wide, fire-blazing eyes staring devilishly straight into his anguished face. That refined shrinking daisy of a girl was a distant memory with this wildly contrasting image before him. Her natural skill, as she had with everything else, made a wave of heat crash down through his stomach and a sultry groan resound from within his throat. He was goddamn close, far too close from how strongly she was affecting him. The singer barely had the time to breathe out a warning to the girl. 

Y/N was startled by the first stream of cum that hit the back of her throat, but figured that this was what he was talking about before. Once his hand dropped limply from the top of her head, she took it as a signal to slowly slip him from her mouth with her lips still tight around him. She sat up slowly, her full and expectant gaze meeting David’s lidded eyes as he caught his breath. The room felt stifling and the air inside of it was thick, all from the heat of the moment finally catching up to the both of them. 

His chest was still heaving as he gave her the placid instruction she was waiting for: “You’ll have to swallow that, darling.”

The warm, salt-bitter substance passed down her throat and she lied back beside him after fulfilling his direction. They lied down, satiated for the time being and facing each other with a pleased, knowing look shared between them. David was going to offer a gesture of gratitude but her sleepy eyes told him that she was burnt out and happy enough having learned a new skill. As Y/N placed her head and a flat hand intentionally against his chest, he felt her touch stir his heart beneath the press of her palm. That was when he knew he was in deep and more than content about it. His hand smoothed over her head one last time before their breathing rhythm synchronized and lulled the both of them into a peaceful sleep late into the night before Y/N had to slip away in the morning once again, kissing his cheek and whispering a little taunt to him on her way out. 

Time was running out for them. The stay was meant to last for four days -- they had this one last day together despite their own wishes to continue their routine, at least in the late evenings when no one else disturbed them. It was a welcome respite from the vulnerability of the daylight where their only worry was being too loud in their endeavors. Y/N hadn’t smiled so much nor had as much genuine enjoyment in a very long time and she dreaded thinking that this would all be over soon. Her gloom clouded her face as they went on their usual walk through the grounds; David knew too well what was bothering her and didn’t need to ask about it. The same thing was weighing on his chest too, held back for a while until they were far from the house and when he couldn’t stand to stay silent about it any longer. 

“If I asked you to leave with me, would you do it?” He began cautiously, trying to hide the hope from his voice.

She sighed, seeing too easily through the thin veil of his nonchalance, “I don’t know. How would we go about such a cliche, fairytale thing?” 

“Just leaving. It wouldn’t be too difficult since you’re legally an adult and not under someone else’s jurisdiction, for lack of a better term.” 

“You want to just run off, on foot, in the middle of the night?” 

“Not necessarily on foot, that’s a bit too antiquated.” He quipped. “But you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, I just want to help.”

“You really are a viper.” 

He turned to her with a grin to mirror hers and played along with her banter: “And what’s that supposed to mean? I was hoping to fulfill the valiant hero archetype and you’d be the fair maiden needing saving.” 

“You’ve pre-corrupted the ‘fair maiden’ before you could save her, I hardly think that’s heroic. And besides, I don’t think any of those fairytales actually involve the maiden asking for help -- this case is different because there isn’t much else for me to do so you aren’t as entirely selfish as those heroes are.”

“Such kind flattery you almost made me forget the wounding you gave me at the start of that answer.” 

“I’ve been practicing to be as eloquent as you.” She quipped, receiving a grateful and playful peck to her cheek as they made a loop back around to the house. 

Y/N didn’t really place any weight onto the offer, thinking it was just a sweet but unrealistic idea, but she still snuck into his room that night for want of his company and out of a quickly-formed habit. But the blue mood tinted the usual warmth of the setting as they remained just sitting side-by-side against the headboard with a blanket draped over their laps. There were too many words storming in their minds but none seemed quite right to address the issue of parting -- so they remained silent until impatience took over and imperfect sentences were good enough for the task. 

“I know you may think that what I said earlier was just a bunch of empty words, but I really did mean that I want to help you leave here. You aren’t happy and, like you said, any other choices are very restricted to you.” David began.

Y/N gave another sigh for an initial response, her mouth open for a few moments before words came out to answer him: “I can’t deny that you’re right, but the offer is far too generous. These conditions may seem difficult to you as an outsider but I’ve grown accustomed to them for the most part and I would hate to be burdensome, especially to you.”

“You can’t possibly be a burden when I’m the one making an offer to you and you can’t expect to stay here all your life. At the very least, I want to help an old friend as genuinely as possible and it’s not at all a problem to me, as you know. The fact that I care for you only makes me unquestionably willing to do the same.”

She turned her head to him with a disbelieving and grateful mark to her features, “Oh David, do you really mean that? The idea just seems so distant from reality, so fictional, that I’m finding it hard to truly comprehend it and have it settle in my mind as a possibility.”  
His hand brushed across her forehead gently as he smiled and assured her that he meant every word of his statement: “I don’t think I could lie to you if I wanted to. But would it help to plan things out more? Maybe that way it’ll feel more concrete in your mind.”

Y/N nodded and they started throwing out ideas for it. It would have to be after he left so it didn’t seem too obvious that he was the perpetrator who stole her away and perhaps it would appear as though she ran off by her own will. As for discretion, late nights were obviously the best time of day for her to leave with a lower risk of detection. To avoid making much noise or raising suspicions, she’d have to pack lightly and gather any resources left behind along the way. Y/N planned to stash a few pieces of, non-heirloom, expensive pieces of jewelry to sell off so she wasn’t entirely reliant upon David. A plan was hashed out by the following hour, set for the night exactly a week away. Having talked and thought out the rest of their energy, they felt their eyelids heavy with sleep. They settled into a familiar comfort after dissolving the somber mood of before with only one last remark from Y/N.

“I suppose I’m changing the ending of the story, escaping the repercussions of accepting the snake’s temptation before they could catch up to me.”


	150. we're gonna groove (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '88 Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw & preganancy mentions
> 
> combining 2 requests into one since they were pretty similar

requests: "Can I request an imagine where late 80s jimmy is trying to get the reader pregnant?" & "Hello can I request a Jimmy one shot w/ a breeding kink please? 👉👈"

I watched the interview from the side and noticed Jimmy’s demeanor changing -- not exactly harsh, but certainly not welcoming. The questions were more and more invasive as it continued while his stern tone countered each one with a vaguely detailed answer. He blew clouds of cigarette smoke to distract from or disguise his expression when he found it hard to maintain a strong visage, giving him a few additional moments to come up with a complicated response that the interviewer shifted away from out of confusion. All his practiced interaction with interviews from the past years and other untrustworthy people he encountered, all his precise guarding, seemed utterly lost when he was asked something about “settling down” with his publicly-known partner -- me. His eyes cut to me then back to the interviewer, demanding to end things at that point and saying that he had enough of their impertinent questions.

Standing up from his seat and marching to my side, he hooked his arm around the crook of my elbow to use it as a point to pull me away with. He moved like a whirlwind, whisking me away through where he had a driver waiting from him and saving his breath to speak in guaranteed privacy -- dressing rooms certainly didn’t offer that luxury. My breath had to catch up as I seated myself and looked to him for an explanation as to what bothered him so much about it. I wanted to know because his reaction to it was bothering me. Of all questions, why did that one disturb him? It seemed a lot less meddlesome than many of the others and fairly normal for a personal-life question. 

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” I finally asked as the car rolled away from the curb.

With a quick look forward and the shutting of the partition, he finally began in an unnerved tone: “Did you hear the whole question?” 

“Just settling down, right? What’s wrong with that?”

“It wasn’t just that.” He remarked with a sneer in reminiscence of only a few minutes prior. “A certain element people consider part of ‘settling down’ and it was goddamn prying, especially with you standing there at the side while I was supposed to speak for the both of us.”

My brows knit in confusion, “What do you mean? What exactly was the question?”

“I was asked, in less crude terms, if I was going to knock you up.”

I felt as though I simultaneously froze and flushed upon hearing the elaboration -- I could see why it ticked him off so much. We never really talked about it anyways, at least until now. It seemed like a tense conversation, not knowing where the other’s heart lied in this matter and neither of us ever wanted to approach such a touchy subject. My pulse was racing already and we’d only just begun the discussion. 

“Oh, I see.” I answered vaguely. 

He faced me directly, clearly not in the mood for stepping around the subject while we were at it and while his temper was shortened. “Well, d’you think I over-reacted?”

“No, no, not at all. It was an inappropriate question to ask.” 

“And your thoughts on the subject?” 

Now my heart was a thundering hum in my ears and my stomach flipped. Truthfully, I had given it thought before and even mused about a romanticized idea of what it would be like with him. He spoke so fondly of Scarlet, how he missed out too much and wished he could’ve spent more time with her instead of being away for his work so often. I took those comments as a veiled hint that maybe he wanted to try it again now that he wasn’t as occupied. But I was never sure and silenced myself from saying anything to him. Only when he cleared his throat did I realize I had yet to give him an answer.

“Do we really need to talk about this now? In the back of the car?” 

“If not now, then the minute we get back home. Might as well address it now that the discussion’s been sparked.” 

I nodded in agreement and we sat quietly through the rest of the ride. Rather than filling the empty air with conversation, both of us were trying to formulate how to properly phrase our thoughts without seeming too invested in it and approaching the matter delicately once we did reveal our true opinions. We stepped out of the car with the same silence and went into the house, feeling the weight of the anticipated conversation on our shoulders. The tension carried on to the living room as we placed ourselves on opposite ends of the sofa and faced each other, our eyes still gazing downwards to avoid the confrontation of looking into the other’s eyes. I circled the tip of my finger over the patterns on the upholstery and waited for him to start again. 

“Shall we begin?” He prodded, irritability keeping him from waiting any longer. 

“Sure… um, you wanted to know how I feel about it?” 

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath and began: “Well, I’m not against it.” 

“That’s so illuminating.” He remarked, dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, it’s just a little nerve-wracking when I don’t know how you feel about it.” I confessed, finally meeting his gaze. “And by ‘not against it’ I mean that I’ve thought about the idea before, favorably. I think I’d like that… with you.” 

No words answered me. Instead I took to the technique of reading his reaction through his eyes, having plenty of practice in it. My nerves were only slightly relaxed when I saw them clear with surprise and shining an almost imperceptible glimmer of delight. Or perhaps I was just projecting what I was hoping to see onto him. I couldn’t be sure until he told me himself. 

“Well, that settles things.” He finally answered with a far easier tone of voice. “I happen to share your exact sentiment.” 

I looked at him wide-eyed, still surprised despite the fact that I could see that opinion in his eyes, and tried to formulate a coherent answer: “I- You- Jimmy, I… I’m not sure what to say. What does this mean for us, now?” 

The upwards curl of his lip told me all I needed to know, though his words were even better: “Perhaps we could begin executing that endeavor… what do you think, my love?”

“For once my forgetfulness comes in useful.” I confessed, watching him get up and stand before me. 

“How’s that?”

“I may have forgotten to take my daily pill. In fact, I forgot that I forgot about it until just now.” 

“What a fortunate coincidence.” He commented, reaching out his hand to me and pulling me off my seat then through the adjoining hallway.

The whirlwind pace returned, sweeping me through the house with him until we reached the dimly-lit solace of the main bedroom and the door was hastily slammed shut behind me. Before I could register what was going on through the meager sunlight streaming through the half-curtained window, an arm crooked firmly around my midsection and tugged me with impossible force over the edge of the bed. I fell back over the now-disheveled sheets, the air in my lungs was pushed out in one quick breath, my eyes fell wide in surprise at his ferocity, and an electric heat coursed through my veins instead of blood. Clothing was carelessly discarded off to the side and the touch of the other’s skin against our own kept us warm. We were both entirely single-minded in our frenzied pursuits of one another.

He captured my mouth with his, hard enough that I could feel his teeth and begin to taste steely blood rising through my lips from the pressure. His usually teasing, featherlight, roaming hands remained fixed at my abdomen and compressed over my navel as though to illustrate his intentions. My hands snaked to his shoulders, up to the curve that connected to his neck and weaving my fingers through his soft curls. It felt possessive yet worshipping as he focused his attention primarily to my stomach -- smoothing his gifted hands over my skin in preparation and breaking away from my grasp to plant contrastingly soft kisses there. Each one sparked the fluttering beat of butterfly wings from within me, turning into a sultry ripple with the lowering trail of his movements. 

“Oh darling, you’re going to look so divine… though we must get through a few rounds just to make sure of the result, I hope you’re rested and don’t have any pressing matters anytime soon?” 

I ruffled a hand through his hair and let it drop to caress his face, “We have all the time in the world.”

“And I intend on using every minute of it.” He declared with finality, his touch slipping down along the curve of my hips and around my thighs to part them. 

There wasn’t enough air in the room, or perhaps it was too thick to breathe in, as I lied back and relished in the velvet touch of his fingertips. Everything seemed to have slowed greatly, like the drip of viscous honey was running over my skin. Intention and care went into every movement. If I tried to sit up or shift my attention to him or speed things up again, I was shushed and coaxed back into a relaxed posture. When his mouth began to drift across my skin with the delicacy of a flower petal and lean in further between my thighs, I felt the familiar tingle of warmth through my entire body. I wanted nothing more than for this to continue -- as long as he would grant me this feeling -- my senses heightening and my deceiving me into thinking I could’ve been floating. Even for Jimmy, the effects he was having on me were remarkable and like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

The velvet of his touch turned into silk, moving liquidly over my core with his tongue occasionally aided by his fingers. He was purposely unhurried even through the part that always drove him into a wild ardor, a different kind of passion behind the dedication to his motions now. I writhed, feeling everything he was doing with a higher intensity than imagined and only more affected by it as each sensation built up into a larger feeling of pleasure threading through my veins. The fire pooling in my stomach started bleeding into my legs and up to my chest where my heart was fluttering in a mad pulse. Jimmy was working me into a state of overwhelmed ease, into opening up for him so our tryst could continue far longer than usual and until every last drop of my energy was drained from me. That thought alone caused another burst of arousal to reach each one of my buzzing nerves. 

“Mm, I can tell you’re nearing the edge but I’m afraid you won’t get relief this time around.” He declared, sliding his hands loosely to my knees and sitting up on his knees. 

“Jimmy… don’t tease.” I whined at the torment, the hike up to a release starting to relieve itself into frustration. 

“I’m sorry, love, but it’s all for the better and perhaps you’ll learn something about patience.” 

I huffed and propped myself back up on my elbows, giving me a better vantage to observe him from as I voiced an idea that popped into mind: “How about playing a little game? If you win, you get to carry on controlling things however you like. If I do, I get to take over from here until one of us gets off.”

“Alright… and what does this game involve, my love?” He smiled, amused as he thought he was merely indulging me for a moment. 

“No touching besides yourself, just words. Whoever can’t stand it any longer first is the loser.” I explained.

“Simple enough and I like it… though you’ve given me an advantage already since you were just edged.” 

“I can manage.” I affirmed confidently, drawing my legs back up to my side. “In fact, you get to have the first turn.”

Jimmy took a moment to reposition himself comfortably and to think through his first move, a smirk etching his lips: “Before we begin, are you certain you want to conceive a child under such circumstances? With dirty words and all?”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

He raised a hand in defense and shook his head, “Just making sure. You’re quite the filthy little minx.”

I gave him a look for using that nickname that never failed to get a heated rise out of me and plotted my revenge as he raised his brows in challenge. 

“You know, I just thought about what it’s going to be like during those several months. I’d have to make you lie down beneath me and let me ride you. I know you’re picturing it now, baby.” 

He shifted in discomfort and tried to hide the twitch of his cock, “You’re right. And you’re a formidable opponent, my dear. You may not be left to rest very much if you act upon that threat, I would fuck you endlessly with your swollen stomach over mine.”

I held back a moan in my throat with a rebuttal forming in mind and voiced immediately: “Sounds like we’ll have a large brood of little Jimmy’s filling this entire house by the time either of us tires.”

“Watch your words or you may well find them coming true.” He warned, his hand roaming to his lap. “You don’t seem to know how delighted I’d be in bringing about such an image, filling you up to the brim over and over again, marking you as mine in the deepest way possible.” 

“Then perhaps you’d better get started now.” I suggested, gradually parting my legs to give him a view to accompany my remark. “And you’ll have to do it again, and again, like rabbits… just to be sure.”

A labored breath exhaled noisily through his nose and I could see his hidden hand languidly pumping over himself. My own abdomen tensed at the sight, surprised that I really was able to have such an effect on him in combination with whatever vulgar images he conjured up in his mind. But I was satisfied in my victory thus far, as I was patient enough to keep my hands steady at my sides rather than on myself. He had to relieve a little of his tension or he would’ve given up already. All he needed was to be waited out a bit longer, or push him right over the edge with another comment or two.

I wanted to deliver the nail in the coffin with an emphatic tone in my voice: “Don’t keep me waiting any longer, Jimmy. After all, I’ve envisioned this for such a long time with only a blind hope behind my thoughts since I didn’t know that you had the same ideas. Now that our intentions have been made clear and there isn’t a shadow of a doubt that we both want the same thing, I just want it even more badly.”

“You know what the begging does to me, darling.” He groaned. “You win.” 

My feigned pout transformed into a victorious grin at his surrender. With a groan, he gave himself one last stroke and shifted along with my motioning for him to come sit against the pillows. He almost looked like a smug aristocrat reclining casually and expectantly, the expression on his face aloof knowing that despite his “loss” the alternative was still very favorable for him. His hands found the curve of my hips and reached a bit further back for a semblance of control over my movements after I swung a leg over his lap. I mirrored his tempo from before, slow and measured, just to watch the anguish in his face grow with every inch I sank over. His fingers dug into my ass, trying to relieve his tension and trying to either push me the rest of the way in one fell swoop or hold me in place for a few moments longer. But his patience wore thin at the familiar heaviness settled between his legs, making itself known all too soon for what he had in mind.

“Y-Y/N, fuck! Faster!” The guitarist demanded through gritted teeth.

“Who won the game, again?” I reminded him, utterly pleased with myself and feeling my own climax start to rise from where he’d ended it before.

“Oh by the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to rise from this bed for a month. And you’ll definitely be pregnant then.” He threatened, sending a wave of arousal through me and taking advantage of the moment to regain his control with the hard grasp of his hands on me.


	151. dawn (jimmy page x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: late 60s Jimmy Page x reader  
> Warnings: none

request: "i need a yardbird jimmy fic rn 😩i wish i could explain why but i simply cannot"

From the feeling of vanishing warmth and his touch slipping away, I could tell that the time difference was having its effect on Jimmy. He sat up at his edge of the bed and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly in the silvery light of dawn filtering dimly through the sheers over the window that illuminated the wild array of his dark hair. I sat up, feeling the exhaustion threading through my body but reaching a hand to his shoulder and calling his attention back towards me. A faint smile graced his features -- a distraction from the weariness around his eyes -- as he drew his hand up over mine and brought it up to his lips. Even through our drowsiness, it was clear that neither of us was going to fall back asleep in these wee hours of morning. 

“Are you going to try sleeping some more, love?” 

I shook my head.

“Would you like to go walk around? Sightsee a bit while we’re here, even though not many sights are going to be seen since everything is likely closed or too dark to see.” He offered. 

“That’s fine, at least it’ll be quiet.” 

He slipped my hand from his and rose to his feet, slowly padding barefoot over the floor to dress himself while I stretched my tired muscles. I snorted seeing him rifle carefully through his clothes for something more subtle than his usual dress for musical appearances -- all of which being brightly-colored, elaborately-patterned, or embellished down to every inch of fabric. I simply slipped a loose shirt over my head and put on a pair of jeans, sitting over the foot of the bed as Jimmy’s dilemma continued. He huffed, apparently not awake enough to care that much for his choice in clothing, pulling out an olive green set of pants with a floral-patterned black blouse. The usual jewelry forgone, he reached his hand out to me as a signal that we were ready to leave the room. 

Everything felt abandoned at first, like a ghost town in and around the hotel: the yellowy artificial light, the hush of hallways or streets, the emptiness of it all aside from the two of us. A few stars still twinkled in the lightening sky with a faintly glowing moon, making us thankful for the street lamps along our path. Our own conversation was quiet, not that there was any need to speak much louder to be heard. The only other sound was muffled, faraway music likely from very late-working nightclubs. We stepped softly over the sidewalks, turning this corner or that however we pleased and hoping not to get lost amidst the unfamiliar city whilst anyone who could have provided directions to us was asleep.

Jimmy and I walked hand-in-hand, leaning against one another or turning to look at an unlit shop window filled with interesting wares. We pointed out places that we’d like to go to, should they have been open now: record shops with posters lining the walls, antique clothing or jewelry boutiques that mirrored Jimmy’s clothing taste perfectly, sophisticated restaurants or cute cafes, expansive bookstores with gold lettering over their windows, little florist’s shops with forest green awnings. The only place we could actually venture into at this hour was a grassy park, the ground beaded with dew and empty benches lining the paths through the manicured trees. A small duck pond resided in its center with closed-up daffodils and daisies sprung around a circle of spaced-out benches. The grey-blue dawn reflected in the surface of its water within a frame of cattails and taller grasses, showing us its beauty without having to crane our heads upwards at the sky itself. We seated ourselves at one of the benches along its edge and stared down at the pond with a quiet solace surrounding us. 

“This is nice.” I remarked through a slow breath.

“Indeed it is. Nicer than screaming audiences or those dreadful, hours-long flights.” 

“I can’t imagine what that must be like for you, being the center of attention for those screaming people, and not having them pursuing your attention afterwards.”

He smiled softly, “It took some getting used to initially… still feels strange at times.” 

I nodded, “And at least right now you don’t have to be doing anything. No performance or interview or recording.” 

“Sure, but I’m rested enough for some activity. In fact, I could think of a few things to do right now.”

I turned and faced him with amusement, recognizing the shift in his tone. “Oh really? Do elaborate.”

“Y’know, it’s still dark outside and there aren’t any other people around…”

I smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter, Y/N, I meant something along these lines.” He trailed off in introduction.

His hand reached to my jaw and entrapped my face in its current position while he swiftly leaned in towards me. I smiled and shut my eyes, knowing exactly what was coming. Our lips collided gently at first as we pressed closer into one another with our hands grasping for the other’s body in an attempt to somehow gain even nearer proximity. I was careful with my grip over his shoulders, feeling the thin fabric of his blouse so delicate underneath my fingers. But my caution was blown into the light morning breeze when his fervor grew and his own hands snuck over my rear in a rough, wide-fingered clutch. Returning the energy to him, my hands fisted at the thin fabric as I slung a leg across his lap for a more comfortable position with better access to one another. The adrenaline that began rushing through my veins roused my energy immediately, my heart beating more wildly and making this feel like it was moving at a dragged pace. I broke away from him suddenly, pulling him by the hand before racing off through the park in a childish game of tag and seeing his face break into a full grin as he went into pursuit. No better way to get the blood pumping first thing in the morning, I mused while my feet flew across the flat field.


	152. remorse (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Jimmy Page x fem!reader   
> Warnings: nsfw & a little angsty at the beginning

request: "can you do a smuty/angsty/fluff shot where Jimmy and reader are arguing, having a really big fight but make amends with some make up lovin and just all round him apologetic and really cute 🥺🥺💓"

Someone was shaking my shoulder and I woke up with a groan, feeling the stiffness of my neck as I adjusted myself out of the strange seated position I’d accidentally fallen asleep in. I took in my surroundings and everything came back to me: I was at the airport, supposed to meet Jimmy early in the morning the day of my birthday and it was taking far longer than expected, resulting in me falling asleep before I could realize it. Given that the band traveled on their own plane, I couldn’t really ask anyone when the plane would be landing and just settled into a seat by the gate they were supposed to arrive at. Now I could see the long-awaited guitarist before me with a concerned expression on his face and his hand at my shoulder, the sky outside pitch black. 

“Hi, Y/N, sorry we were late.” He began. 

I groaned, pain sharply shooting through my stiffened muscles as I tried to stand up. “Let’s just get going.”

“Alright, I think the car’s waiting for us out this way.” He remarked with a hushed tone, seeing my tense state and guiding me by the crook of the arm down one of the hallways. 

I practically fell into the back seat and leaned my head against the window as Jimmy piled in after me, his eyes clearly still on me. Perhaps it was the weird sleep causing this sour mood, but I felt like a prodded bear all along the car ride home. Any attempt at conversation was quelled by me giving curt responses and brushing it away. I’d been sitting in that damn airport all day long. The flight was only supposed to be seven hours, starting from the previous night after their last New York show, and yet it took at least double that time for them to get here. There must’ve been some kind of reasoning behind the delay, not just a standard inconvenience that they could’ve easily found an alternative for. And there was no communication at all. If they’d been stranded at the airport for hours, the least he could’ve done was give me a quick phone call either at home or routed through this airport. That alone made me ticked off but the fact that it was my birthday only raised that feeling, even though I normally wouldn’t make a big deal of it. 

The bumps along the road made my head bounce against the glass and give me a dull pain in my head. I could feel Jimmy reach for my outstretched hand but didn’t react to it. The least he could’ve done was try to tell me that he’d be late, and it’s not like I hadn’t mentioned when my birthday was -- hell, he insisted on coming home the morning of, just so he could celebrate it with me. My stomach twisted at the thought and I couldn’t help but feel pained by the turn of events. It was so stupid and maybe they did have a good reason for being so late, not calling, or anything else that had distressed me as I thought over the last few hours. It felt like a hurricane swirling in my forehead, weighing on my head literally and figuratively. The rain outside only added to the gloominess. 

As the car rolled to a stop, I slid out of my seat carelessly and went to go unlock the door to the house while Jimmy could tend to his own things. I hated seeming so dramatic and passive aggressive but I couldn’t fight it off. My shoulders were pained, my back felt uncomfortable, my neck hurt any way I tried to turn it, my head was aching dully, and my legs still felt asleep. I threw my body sideways over the front room sofa after leaving the door wide open for the guitarist and simply waited for the oncoming confrontation. The shuffling around at the doorway signalled that Jimmy was moving his things in with the help of the driver, a glaring white light from the overcast sky streaming inside onto my face during the process. When things quieted down and the door shut with the click of a lock, I knew Jimmy’s attention was turned to me. 

“Y/N, what’s the matter?” His softened voice asked as he sank down to the opposite end of the sofa and reached a hand to rest along my leg.

“You’re really going to ask me that?” I grumbled, not bothering to face him.

“I just want to make sure I know exactly what’s bothering you, please tell me.” 

I shifted around onto my back and looked at him, “Do you know how long I was at that airport for?”

He sighed, “I know it was a long time and I’m sorry for the delay.”

“No Jimmy, a ‘delay’ is a few hours not half a day. You didn’t even bother trying to tell me while you were delayed and I fell asleep at a goddamn airport waiting for you. I don’t want to argue with you or complain like this, but I don’t want this to happen again.”

He hung his head low in shame and turned his gaze back when he formulated a response: “I know, and I am truly sorry. There was much to deal with in the moment so it was hard for me to get a moment to try calling you. And I’m especially sorry because I know you’ve spent your birthday waiting for me.”

I couldn’t respond and just looked down at the floor. His hand reached higher, up to mine, and urged me to sit up with him. My body complied to his pulling and I just stared at him blankly. 

“Tell me how to make it up to you.” He requested. “I don’t want you to feel blue a minute longer and it’s all my fault anyways. So ask anything of me freely.” 

“I don’t want anything. I’m happy you’re back and I think I just need to get some rest at this point.” I answered, rubbing a hand over my tired eyes and beginning to stand back up until his hand dragged me back down over his lap.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me one thing you want. And it can’t just be sleep or being left alone.” 

“Let me go.” 

“No, I’m dead serious.” He declared, his hands wrapped low around my waist and roaming around my frame while moving me to ensure that I couldn’t possibly miss the tent in his pants against me. “C’mon Y/N, just one little thing.” 

I kept my lips sealed. His hands crept further and his knees parted to force my own legs apart over them, trying to force some words out of me. This was beginning to feel a bit like a game, and I wasn’t going to let him win a victory from me that easily. My teeth sank into my lower lip to keep myself silent as his fingers rubbed smooth circles through the in-seam of my jeans while the other arm firmly restrained me from moving off of him. My patience had been tested enough already and I figured I could push it a bit further, take this effort to get a rise out of me without breaking a sweat. Jimmy seemed to sense my steadfast mindset, pressing his lips to the curve at the base of my neck and grazing his teeth over the skin before biting down gently. 

“C’mon, Y/N…” He pleaded in a warm breath against me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and let him continue. He pushed further -- slipping his hands beneath the waist of my jeans -- and prodded me with sweet words once more, pleading that I accept his apology, in its entirety, already. His fingers kept at their massaging assault, their movement turbulent given the restraint of the jeans and the strengthening strain shifting beneath my seated rear on his lap. I was reminded that he was exhausted too at his sudden halt, removal of his creeping hand, and frustrated sigh. 

“Seriously, Y/N, please forgive me and let’s resolve this already.” He asked, his tone breaking character and moving into a quip: “Am I really going to have to take you upstairs and fuck it out of you? Are you really so stubborn today?”

I broke my stern front at his remark, laughing as his grip around me loosened and turning to face him: “No, I’m not that stubborn.”

“Ah, there’s that pretty smile.” He mused, tracing a finger over my bottom lip. “Now will you come upstairs with me willingly?” 

“Yes, Jimmy.” I rolled my eyes, stepped to my feet, and pulled him by the hand up after me. 

We bounded up the staircase together, the gloom of before dissolving in the eagerness we both had towards his show of remorse for being so terribly late and of celebration of my birthday. He usually was a very attentive lover and this occasion would only accentuate that trait of his, heightening my excitement enough to make me nearly forget the miserable elements of his arrival earlier. My heart leapt in anticipation, thoughts of what may lie ahead rushing wildly into my mind as our feet raced through the bedroom door frame. I reached to Jimmy, specifically the hem of his sweater, but he stepped away and directed me to simply relax so he could do all of the work. 

“This is, after all, a gesture from me to you. I am entirely at the whim of your wishes, my love.” He insisted, leading me to sit at the edge of the bed while he began disrobing me. 

First was my shirt -- tugged up over my head and discarded sideways. Next he lied me back and reached for my jeans -- his fingers hooked around the belt loops and swiftly pulling them down my legs, more gently removing them from my ankles. He coaxed me into the center of the bed, granting himself a moment to look at me lying there, then bent down to press his lips at the base of my calf and formed a line of them up to my knee before standing back up to his full height. His hands reached to his own sweater, peeling it off and climbing over me to rest between my parted legs. The trail continued, now trekking upwards from my sternum until he captured my lips. I tangled my hands through his hair to keep him close, only letting him rise a mere few inches if he dared to part from me. 

He laughed lightly upon noticing my tight grip, “Darling you’re going to have to let me go if you’d like me to continue. Don’t you want me to eat you out?”

My fingers fisted his hair harder to illustrate my firm stance on the matter, “Later. You said you were at my whim, and right now, I just want you to fuck me. Hard. Make up for all that time apart. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He teased with raised brows at my demanding tone. “One round of merciless, impetuous fucking, as requested, my lady.”


	153. summer lovin' (robert plant x fem!reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '90s Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw
> 
> ngl this is heavily inspired from some very lovely 90s robert pics i saw this morning & brownskinsugarplum's works on tumblr

Thank the gods for private beaches -- completely undisturbed by the noise of other people, adaptability to move around the sandy shore with the change of the sun’s position, and freedom to do anything we pleased as the moment struck without unwanted onlookers. A gentle breeze cooled my body like the touch of silk over my warmed, barely-covered skin as I lay back within the slight shade of a palm tree and felt my toes sinking into the smooth, heated sand around me. The languid crash of small waves on the shore lulled me into a relaxed state as I soaked up the sun’s rays over a beach towel I’d found in the villa further back along the beachfront. I heard footsteps from the trailing path behind me, signalling that Robert finally decided to join me before I saw him step into my view. 

His untamed, unstyled curls matched the golden glint of the scenery and waved carelessly with the breeze as he lounged back at my feet. My eyes lingered past the aviators shielding his eyes, down along the smiling curve of his mouth, and to peek at his chest through the three-quarters buttoned shirt hanging loose over his shoulders. The tempting splay of darker curls was hidden away between the thin, patterned fabric and begging for some attention. His usual array of one-of-a-kind jewelry piled at his wrists and over his fingers, drawing my gaze over to his skilled hands. I was reminded and grateful once again that there was no need for any sort of restraint or discretion given the vacancy of the beach aside from the two of us. 

“My, what a lovely and devilish smile you’ve got on your face. I only wonder what’s got you smiling like that, darlin’.”

I dodged his question coyly as I propped myself up on my elbows: “Who wears jewelry to a beach? Not that I’m complaining.”

He chuckled, “Hmm… I think that tells me what’s on your mind, even though you tried not to answer me.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Then let me help you figure it out, my clever one.” 

My smile only grew, knowing that I was going to have my little beachside fantasies come true as those very hands reached up my calves with the feeling of the jewelry resting over my skin with his gliding fingertips. The relaxed state of my body kept me from reacting too abruptly, letting him smoothly reach higher without moving beneath his touch. Rousing tingles swirled through me as his hands came above my knees and eased my legs to part before him. They marked a line up to the skimp bottoms of my swimsuit, sneaking beneath the material and grasping it but not pulling it down my legs the way I expected him to. Instead, his hands rested over my thighs as a reminder of what they were capable of. 

“How was that? You seem disappointed that I stopped.”

“Enough with the games, you know what I was thinking and what I want.” I spoke gently, hoping that my tone wasn’t desperate enough to make him purposely tease me a while longer.

“Your wish is my command, though I’m amazed that you gave up so easily.” He admitted, reaching his hands back up to where they’d been before. 

A breath caught in my lungs at the sharpness in his removal of the flimsy piece of fabric, one that turned into a soothed sigh knowing what would inevitably come next with the grasp of his hands on my ankles. He planted them on each side of the towel and snuck forth, reaching up to the back ties of the fabric over my top half to unfasten them with practiced ease. I took advantage of the moment and pressed my palms to his chest, sneaking beneath his shirt then around his shoulders then to the expanse of his back. My hold on him brought his strong frame nearer to mine and refused to let him move away until I stole a wanton kiss from him. The aviators on the bridge of his nose slipped low as he pulled away after paying me my due, revealing the dark gleam in his ocean blue eyes. 

“Isn’t it better to tan without getting any lines from clothing?” 

“I suppose I’ll test out that theory now.” I declared, relieving my hold on him and letting him slip back down to my hips. 

Robert’s palms pushed apart my thighs further to allow for ample access as he began to lean down after placing his precariously-set sunglasses off to the side, the mischievous gleam in his eyes now on full display and in full effect given the heat I felt pooling in my abdomen. My fingers laced into the front curls of his loose hair, combing it out of the way as his breath curled against my center and he leaned even closer until I could feel his lips brushing against me. He intended to make me desperate, to make me ache for him to go further and again plead him to do so. But I could take it. Easily. I was more than content to let him stay in place, not even having to lift a finger to make him want to give up his stoic control as my body instinctively responded to his proximity with a slick cascade between my legs. It would only be a matter of time before he’d begin lapping it up with great thirst, whether or not I gave him the plea he was asking for. 

My assumption was proven when I felt the slickness of his tongue over me, gliding liquidly and humming in the base of his throat. I arched slightly against him to seek more friction and dug my fingers harder into his hair, a silent request for more. His mouth encircled my dripping core and sucked harshly, as though trying to make me regret it especially given the provoking look in his eyes that stared back up at me confidently. But I held back any evident reaction by biting down on my lower lip and making him have to try harder if he wanted to earn a more vocal response. I focused my mind elsewhere -- to the hush of the ocean’s waves, to the rustled of the palm trees above me, to the sand between my toes, to the slowly rising heat of the sun -- in a moderately successful distraction from what Robert was doing to me. Now his fingers began a rolling stroke in accompaniment to his mouth and tongue, his face attentive only to my core as his eyes gazed down at my writhing low abdomen. I could feel the rings he’d chosen to wear as a cool contrast to all of the other heat sources: the sun, his actions, the arousal from his actions, and our bodies radiating it between one another. 

He withdrew, feeling a familiar telling tension pulse around his fingers, “Mm… you’re as delectable as ever, honey.” 

I noted his emphasis on the pet name and grinned, “Glad to hear it. Especially as it’s such a mutually beneficial activity.” 

“That it is. Now, shall we seek shelter further upshore or remain right here under the scant cover of this little palm tree?”


	154. debauchery (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '75 Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw & drug use
> 
> HA extremities are not a problem unless they're reeeeaaaaalllyy out there

request: "hey. so basically there's a scene in the movie the dirt where a dude sniffs substances off backside of his lover while they're having sex and I wanted to ask if you can write something similar with '75 jimmy if it's not too extreme lol, thanks in advance"

It was like watching a phantom, slipping eerily through the hotel hallway and leading me through it by the grasp of his hand. The space was dark with flashes of color or brighter light flashing misshapen shadows along the walls while smoke curled in the air and the noise of the crowd combined with the thumping music beat through my veins. I felt like I was in a daze even though I’d barely taken or drank anything thus far. It was just the effect of the fantastical, outlandish scene and my luck in parading around with the famed guitarist. Our short journey ended with him tugging me into a room along the hall and the door slamming shut behind me. My back was rammed against it, the collision of his mouth and mine shortly following while his hands snaked up my sides. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. 

His crafty hands snuck my poor excuse for a shirt over my head when we paused for a split second to catch our breaths, so I copied his action and slipped his dragon-emblazoned black jacket off his bare shoulders. Our feet trampled haphazardly further through the room until the backs of my knees collided with the edge of the hotel room’s bed. He noticed the jolt of the collision and parted from me with his hands wandering to my hips. I couldn’t see much of his eyes through the long shag of dark hair over his forehead, but his sinister grin told me all I needed to know about where this was going. His hands spun me around before I could notice and I felt them splay over my bare abdomen, keeping me close against him. 

“Now you’re going to be a good girl and listen to exactly what I say or you’ll deal with the consequences. Is that understood?” His voice directed in my ear. 

“Yes, Jimmy.” I answered reflexively, trying not to seek friction against the bulge of his pants against my rear.

“Good, stay just like this and only move if my hands move you.”

He retreated from my backside while his hands remained on my hips and his fingers delved underneath my waistband, gripping the fabric before practically ripping it from its position down to my ankles. My legs were lifted by the calves so he could remove it entirely and retake his stance behind me swiftly. Now his touch lingered freely along my abdomen and along the tops of my thighs, as if familiarizing himself with the territory before coming up with a scheme for what he wanted to do. I dared to place a hand over one of his, trying to drag it where I wanted it most underneath the single layer of black lace left below my waist. He granted me the meager moment of control only to take it back in a flash, delving his hand even further than I led him to and grasping my pussy harshly as though challenging my desire.

“Is this what you want from me? After disobeying my one order?” He spat. “Do you really think I’ll let such a simple thing slide and just give you what you want?”

“No, Jimmy.” I answered quietly, hanging my head down. 

“Bend over.” 

I followed his order, leaning my elbows onto the duvet cover and feeling a shudder run through me in anticipation of what I assumed his punishment was. Jimmy curled an index finger around this waistband now, tugging it down just as harshly as he’d done before until my skin was almost entirely exposed to the cool air of the room. But the trembling of my frame wasn’t from fear or discomfort in this position, it was thrill. I wanted him to just touch me already, to carry out his punishment no matter what it involved. He answered my first silent wish by the lingering clutch of his hands over my ass like a panther playing with its prey before devouring it. Once I’d relaxed enough into a false sense of quasi-security, he delivered a sharp smack of his palm over the skin and my frame helplessly lurched forward. My face planted into the duvet and I couldn’t stifle the sharp cry that burst through my mouth. 

“Not so bold now, are we?” The guitarist taunted, reaching his hand back to spank me again.

This time my hands fisted at the sheets and I was able to bite back any noise. That only seemed to encourage him into applying more force into his next few smacks upon my rear. I felt my posture weakening with each one, leaning further into the bed and letting myself fall forth with his force. The sting seemed to subside after a while as he continued and my quieter reactions dissuaded him from going at it too much longer. Instead, his hand grasped at my hair and used it to pull my face back up from the disheveled duvet. 

“Stay still, just like this or your punishment will be far worse.” 

I stiffened suddenly at his threat, keeping my back as flat as possible and being corrected into a bit of an arched position while something light poured down along the length of my spine. It began in the middle then trailed almost to my tailbone as some sort of straight-edged object formed the substance into a neat line. An emptied, tiny plastic bag was thrown from his hands and landed near my face, telling me exactly what kind of substance had been sprinkled over me. He placed a hand at one side of my hips to keep me in place as his nose brushed just over my rear, beginning to sharply sniff the substance off my skin. The unexpectedly strong wave of arousal that curled through my stomach almost made me writhe in response but I kept still to avoid Jimmy’s wrath. As he reached towards the mid-point of my spine, and the remainder of the trail, I felt a prod at my slick center. With the last snort of his nose came the forced push of his cock into me. 

He hummed in a buzzing satisfaction as he straightened back up and fixed his hands over the curve of my low back, “Thank you for indulging me darling. Now I can spend the rest of the night returning the favor and fucking you until the sun rises -- I won’t be falling asleep anytime soon.”


	155. a valuable lesson (robert plant x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '72 Robert Plant x fem!reader  
> Warnings: uh all nsfw, no plot

request: "Pretty please- 1972 Robert Plant sort of teaching a girl how to deepthroat. Him."

“I want to take you, Robert, all of you.” I confessed into his ear within our heated embrace, leaning in closer to mock him: “Or as you’re known for saying, every inch of your love.”

He withdrew slightly to gauge my face and his brows knit in confusion, “What are you saying, Y/N?” 

I took a breath and let my gaze fall to the floor, “I-In my mouth, is what I mean.”

“Oh, darlin’.” He chuffed. “You can do that anytime, anyplace you want.” 

I smiled faintly and tried to hide the flush on my face as the confession continued: “But, you see, I don’t think I can. I don’t know how.”

His curled finger nudged below my chin until I looked into his eyes again and he gave me a delighted, authoritative answer: “Then let me teach you.”

I leaned up on my toes to kiss the tip of his nose, deceptively innocently. 

Robert was a kind teacher, as he allowed me to explore on my own a bit: “What’s more comfortable for you, love? Tell me what you want.” 

My lips pursed in consideration, “You probably want to sit down so how about the chair over there by the window?” 

“We’re lucky we aren’t on a ground floor.” He commented quietly, walking a few paces to seat himself where I requested. 

His hands unbuckled the belt over his embroidered blouse and he slipped off the light blue jeans from his hips, down to stay at his ankles. I sank to my knees and gently removed them from his legs, placing them off to the side so I could continue without any interference. Rising up on my knees, I let my hands slither along his inner thighs while he reached to remove the loose hem of his shirt from my way and up over his head. He really did resemble the stereotypical character of a viking sometimes: untamed mane of blond hair over his shoulders, bright blue eyes that shone with a shifting fire, the boyish yet certainly experienced smirk etched into his lips, a larger-than-life stature that towered over almost anyone, a traditional-looking blouse pinned to his frame with an intricate belt slung low on his abdomen, the strong frame that lie beneath the thin fabric, elaborately-crafted antique jewelry, heeled boots that gave him an even higher vantage, and the facial hair that he used to sport only a few months prior. The posture with which he sat radiated a suggestive and confident aura, delighting in the prospect of what was coming to him. My mouth salivated and a heat wave rippled through my stomach at his demeanor, even without seeing the ample, ripe length before me.

“Well, you know how to start.” He prodded, his dimples peeking out at his own comment. “That’s for damn sure.”

I smiled, letting my hands reach to a central meeting point and my mouth loll open in my usual method. He was easing me into the new experience, letting me get comfortable before pushing me into unknown territory. My tongue slid along the backside of his length and up to the leaking head, encircling my lips around him to start a small bob just over the top. Normally, my hands and tongue would bring him to the edge in just the ways he liked. But now I looked up to him in expectation and waited for instruction. He placed a large hand over the top of my head, pulling me away for a moment while he explained without my potential disruption. His hand dropped alongside my face and kept my head tilted upwards by his hold on my jaw.

“Such a good girl.” He praised first then began his instruction, “Now go slowly or you’ll end up gagging. Breathe through your nose and let yourself get lower. Slow and steady, yeah?” 

“Okay, Robert.” I confirmed my understanding, his hand brushing over my forehead and planting itself over the top of my head again.

My hands retreated to the peaks of his thighs as I let my mouth take full control. I kept my gaze focused on him, as though continually asking for assurance that I was doing things correctly once my lips encircled his head. The journey lower continued at a crawling pace and going inch by inch, as declared. But I was only halfway through when the tip of his length had touched the back of my throat, making me pause in hesitation and look up to him for assistance. The hand he had over my head gently added pressure while his patient tone reminded me to keep focusing on breathing through my nose. My uncertainty that this would work vanished as I felt myself slowly getting lower, his length pushing down my throat. My eyes widened in a pleased surprise that I was really doing it and I nearly smiled as I heard a deep hum at his lips. 

“Just like that, baby, good job.” He muttered through a moan. 

I was almost there, the weight of his hand noticeably heavier than before, and my breaths were thick through my nostrils as I forced myself down that last little length. My head was curled around and I leaned further in between his muscular thighs that were now tense. The brush of his darker curls against my nose and the heat radiating from his skin signalled that I had achieved my goal. Robert let his hand slip back over the curve of my head and he gave me a lazy smile, eyes half-mast in pleasure as he held himself back for my sake. I let my tongue roam slightly against his underside and my hands stroke over his legs, daring to wander down beneath my lips to give him a light squeeze. But that only made him pull me back by the hair abruptly, saliva strewn between the entirety of his length and my mouth. 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” I questioned demurely.

“No, fuck baby, quite the contrary.” He answered through a barked-out laugh. “That was too right. I was going to start moving if you kept me like that any longer. I don’t think you’re quite ready for me to fuck your throat, given that you just learned how to take me fully not moving.”

I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth and sat down over my knees, “You’re probably right. And thanks for being a very helpful teacher, I learned quite the valuable lesson today.”

He returned my knowing smile, “Oh I’m happy to help in any way. It brings me so much pleasure to be a good teacher for you, my angel.”


	156. don't you see (steve winwood x reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '73 Steve Winwood x reader  
> Warnings: not really nsfw but it's pointing in that direction
> 
> also thanks anon, now i will be listening to blind faith/traffic to better familiarize myself with yet another brilliant musician!

request: "hi i just wanna say u do the lords work i have NEVER found a better reader insert writer than you, not once. also can i get uhhHHHHHhhhhHHhhh fuckin. steve winwood. reader has slight tummy kink? if thats too weird its fine dwai."

“Didn’t you say those critics don’t even know what they’re talking about?” I reminded, seeing Steve pouring through reviews of Traffic’s just-released album in a small stack of magazines and newspapers. 

“Yes.” He answered curtly, still staring between lines of text.

“Then why pay any mind to them? You know Fantasy Factory is a good album, you know how much work and creativity went into making it. There’s no point in listening to people who don’t understand it and are hard to please anyways.” 

He sighed and let the magazine in his hands flop down onto the coffee table, lying back against the sofa with a hapless expression. I took a seat opposite him and smiled reassuringly in hopes that his spirits would be raised now that he wasn’t staring at criticism of his work. But the frown turning his lips down didn’t disappear. I reached a hand to his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw gently in understanding. It must’ve been difficult to always have people picking at your self-expression that took so long to produce and share with the world, especially after going through rounds of touring in between recording albums, never able to stop the machine of the music industry. Leaning in to him, I pressed a kiss to his cheek and combed my fingers through his hair while trying to think of any method to cheer him up a bit.

“How about I make you feel better? Or just distract you for the time being?” I offered coyly, leaning my head against his shoulder.

“Oh? How would you go about that?” Steve replied, giving me a small smile. 

“All will be revealed if you’re patient, just relax.” I urged and smoothed a hand across his chest. 

A nonchalant shrug was the reply I received. Taking it as a signal of allowance, my hands slipped the hem of his sweater higher up his torso and underneath the knit fabric. My lips pressed gently against his before he could question what I was doing, chastely kissing along his mouth and jaw while the touch of my hands roamed along his skin. I retreated when my hands reached his shoulders, pulling the sweater up and urging him to let me remove it from his arms. There was a bit of bewilderment in his eyes at my sudden, unexpected fervor in giving him a little attention but he certainly wasn’t frowning anymore. In fact, he seemed very easily distracted as I removed my own shirt. 

He shifted back around so his body lied back against the arm of the sofa and granted me more space to work with. I leaned forth to kiss the base of his throat, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his neck in response, and then moving all of the newly-exposed skin below in a flowery trail with an intentional kiss placed over his heart. Once I landed upon his stomach, I paused and looked to him for permission to continue, given his fairly recent bout of illness with it. His smile grew at my consideration and he gave me a small nod of approval. My hands spread along his sides, smoothing downwards to the waistband of his jeans while my lips gently ventured beneath his ribcage. The muscles tensed below the touch of my mouth but he wasn’t pained, emboldening me to pay his abdomen a bit of extra attention. 

While my hands massaged his sides and just above the denim boundary over his hips, my open mouth grazed delicately across his stomach with an occasional kiss planted on the surface of his warm skin. There was a silent intention behind each kiss as a thought came to mind: one as appreciation for his hard work, one for the beautiful results of his artistic expression, one for his determination to keep at his craft, one for his kind nature to me no matter how tired he was sometimes, one for performing and traveling all while his stomach was bothering him, one for his flexibility in playing so many styles and types of instruments, one just because. My touch grew far less innocent as it lingered below his navel, though I slowed to let him stop me at any moment if this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Well don’t fucking stop there.” He chuckled through a frustrated tone, his head lifting to look at my face more directly and deliver his command more sternly. 

“I see my methods are working perfectly…” I mused while my hands unfastened his belt buckle.

“You’re a master of distraction, my dear.” He agreed with a far brighter smile than before and even a sparkle in his eyes.


	157. your time is gonna come (robert plant & jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Robert Plant & Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw & cheating
> 
> dang like 3 people sent me requests for an idea like this within the same two hour interval so uh... great minds think alike?

requests: "robert and jimmy love triangle with girl, robert’s girlfriends is on tour with them and he finds out that she’s been hooking up with jimmy behind his back and whilst she is watching them perform he dedicates your time is gonna come to her on stage and after the show it kicks off!"   
"hii! i absolutely loved your first robert & jimmy x reader threesome fic, could you write anything similar to that? thanks! :)"  
"jimmy/robert/reader cuddles please? fluffy in the extreme 🥺 tysm" (at the end!!!!)

There wasn’t much room for interpretation of the image between the slightly ajar dressing room door that Robert peeked through. It wasn’t particularly bad, but it was telling. The desirous look shared in their eyes, their knowing smiles, how the guitarist’s hands rested over her ass, how she didn’t even pull away, how she instead provoked him to go further. He didn’t even have to hear the mention of a previous tryst that had occurred between them to know they’d slept together. It made him wince, like each little thing was the lash of a whip over his back. He was hurt and didn’t want to show it, preferring to put on a strong front then deal with the two of them later. The anger within him emboldened him into a more direct form of confrontation, requesting a change be made to the set list for the show set to start in an hour and prowling through the stage as though nothing could possibly deflate him.

Y/N remembered him a little while later, springing on him from behind with her arms draped over his shoulders and planting a kiss to his cheek. He didn’t want to give any sign of knowing about her unfaithfulness and played along, thinking of the act of vengeance he would take later that evening. His hands pressed where Jimmy’s had been only fifteen minutes prior, reclaiming her in his mind, as he held her in his lap over his dressing room sofa. The little spark of anger was being fanned by every minute that she dared to pretend nothing was going on behind the singer’s back and continued to toy with him, until the burning ember was a blazing fire in the pit of his stomach. His signature smirk was tainted by it, as was the mischievous gleam in his eyes. A genuine air of unstoppable emotion was cutting through his usual joviality and friendliness which carried on through every step he took onto that stage with his darling, two-timing Y/N trailing behind him with well-wishes repeating from her mouth.

“Thanks, darlin’, just stay here and watch the show. I’ve got a song for you tonight.” Robert led her on. 

“Oh really? That’s sweet of you.” She smiled, making his foolish heart soften in his chest. 

He gave her a nod, taking his place at the mic stand and taking control of the crowd. The boldness in his stature grew with every song, the set list nearing his request for the night. Jimmy would scold him for it, finding it insolent of the young singer to poke at the leader of the band who gave him a chance in the first place and criticising him for things that he himself did when Y/N wasn’t around either. These power struggle arguments always ended with a victory for Jimmy and he was tired of it. The guitarist wouldn’t be able to do anything about this song and would simply have to chew him out for it after the show ended. It didn’t matter whose side Y/N took -- she would sway to whoever debated through it better (Jimmy) and whoever had given her more excitement (also, likely Jimmy). Robert would’ve been grumbling by this point if his request wasn’t coming up right after the end of this song. The crowd hadn’t detected the hostile vigor of the singer conducting them from center stage, though his bandmates did and didn’t feel brave enough to question it until after the show was over.

“Thank you! Now we’ve got an old feature for you all, a little song that showcases the brilliance of Mr. John Paul Jones on his keyboards and happens to be a dedication tonight to a dear friend standing at the sides of the stage. This one’s called ‘Your Time is Gonna Come’!” Robert declared with a victorious sneer, directing his arm towards the keyboards as the spotlight turned on over Jonesy. 

Even in the relative darkness over the rest of the stage, he could see the flash of Jimmy’s clever eyes. Everything was made clear at this point -- the hostility, the shift in his expression, the change in his demeanor, the air to his stage strut, the tone in his singing -- all was directed at him and that sweet Y/N that simply couldn’t help but fall under the spell of his charms along the way. Jimmy returned the fiery fervor, drawing out a stern guitar solo that was meant to challenge the singer’s moody voice pronouncing those threatening lines and meaning every single one of them. Robert felt lied to, cheated, and hurt but he didn’t damn his friends. He couldn’t do such a thing so this would be as close as he got to it. Discreetly telling the crowd, the entourage, and his bandmates exactly what was weighing on his mind. One final song was played after his vengeance song, then he made his way offstage with an unashamed stature refusing to crumble under the furiously approaching steps of the guitarist. 

“What the hell was that about?” He spat just through the entry into the main hallway, caring not for who overheard.

“You know exactly what that was about.” Robert rebutted through gritted teeth. 

“I can only assume you saw Y/N and I together?” 

“Yeah and I heard that you two had a go or two at it behind my back.”

“Are you any better?” Jimmy challenged, lighting a cigarette between his lips. 

The singer shut his mouth and grumbled to himself. Sure, he wasn’t any better but usually he didn’t interfere with the others’ conquests when their territory was clearly marked. Not that these women were property. It was just easier to look at things that way than to consider their backgrounds, their contexts, and see them as real people just as they were only with different lifestyles. Either way, Robert wasn’t this unrestrained. Y/N was his guest and had stayed as such for the entirety of the tour. Jimmy trying to swipe her was unfair. 

“I don’t try to sleep with your wife.” Robert finally replied with a quieter tone.

“Y/N’s not your wife, last I checked.” 

“She’s my guest and you stole her away. She willingly went off with you.” 

Speak of the devil, as they say. Y/N approached the two men in debate and easily read exactly what they were so angrily discussing based on their faces. She sighed and figured it’d be best to let them sort it out themselves while she remained at the sidelines. 

“Well, Y/N, I never took you for a cheat.” Robert turned to her, his hands on his hips and a contorted snarl on his lips.

“Takes one to know one, and I didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You do this all the time to other girls so I figured you wouldn’t care and would just move onto someone else.” She answered, crossing her arms across her chest.

Jimmy smirked, slinging a hand over the small of her back and making things worse by drawing her to his hip. What a strong one she was with the way she could carry herself so easily against a frustrated Robert. Perhaps she learned it from him. No matter the source, Jimmy liked this side of her and wanted to test its boundaries in a method that would perhaps resolve this conflict within the span of one night. 

“Both of you, hush. Let’s not embarrass ourselves here and talk this all out in my room once we get to the hotel. Alright?” The guitarist reasoned with authority, looking between the two fighting lovers. 

Each of them agreed to his accord and they piled into one limo together, ignoring the crowds awaiting them at the rear door or at the hotel lobby to dissipate this discord. The noise outside was muffled behind the shut hotel room door while the three people arranged themselves in the entry room, all dispersed over the furniture: Jimmy on the sofa, Robert in an armchair, and Y/N with her legs kicked up over a chaise lounge. Each of them took a breath in preparation, wondering where or how to begin with such a conversation. Seeing as the room was Jimmy’s and he’d been the most assured in this confrontation, he was the one who broke the silence.

“Alright, we can spend all night giving each other cold looks and spitting insults at each other or we can figure out what we’re going to do about it now.” He began. “Do either of you have a large disfavor towards the other?”

“No. Despite what you may think, Robert,” Y/N looked pointedly at the singer. “I’m fond of both of you and I don’t want to sever any ties if I don’t have to.” 

“I don’t want to let you go either, but I can’t just overlook the fact that you were fucking my friend behind my back.” 

“Only because I knew something like this would happen.” She explained. 

Jimmy cut in: “We’re going in circles again. Either we let Y/N make a decision, or perhaps we can have… a trial run, if you like, between the three of us.” 

Y/N nodded permissively and accepted the proposition easily. Robert was more tentative, naturally being a bit more territorial and also uncertain of what lay within such a hazy boundary. But he disliked this conflict even more. Jimmy was his friend, no matter how many cold or questionable things he did, and he couldn’t help the way his heart melted for Y/N. She was a special one -- not only striking him as a passing interest with mostly physical appeal, but someone he could see further potential with -- as much as he hated to admit it to himself. He wasn’t about to let either of them slip away from good graces in his book and he hoped they reciprocated that sentiment. Whatever Jimmy had in mind, it would have to work or it would seem that this strange state of limbo was going to continue for quite a while longer. 

“Alright, what do you have in mind then, Jim?” The singer finally accepted. 

The guitarist smiled, standing from his seat and offering a hand out to each of them, “May the party please join me in a short walk to the adjoining room? It appears that we owe dear Robert a bit of an apology, so let’s give him the reins for now.” 

Y/N smiled and nodded, looking between the both of them as she followed Jimmy’s guidance through his room then taking Robert’s free hand within hers. The appeasement was received well by the singer as he stepped more lively through to the doorway to the bedroom and felt emboldened into the position of power he was given. He had only been a few steps away from Y/N and yet when he entered the room behind her, she was already fully disrobed before both the musicians. Her head turned between them expectantly, ultimately placing her gaze onto Robert and smiling as though to reassure him that she was granting him this power or perhaps that she still harbored the same caring sentiment towards him. 

Jimmy flitted to her side, all the better to see the singer’s face with the same reassurance Y/N was showing him. Although he did steal a not-so-subtle glance towards Y/N’s nude form and carried a smile from the sight. Ideas teemed in his mind but he kept to his words, remaining silent and awaiting for Robert’s direction but not afraid to step in should this standstill continue much longer. But it didn’t -- the blond skirted around them and plopped himself in the center of the headboard, kicking off his heeled boots then his belt bottoms. His unbuttoned, untied blouse remained parted over his chest and hanging loosely off his shoulders, seated with his legs outstretched and with the aloofness of a spoiled prince at his throne. He looked to his two friends and called them over, one to each side. 

“Y/N, come get on my lap.” He directed with an outreaching gesture of his arms that wrapped around the girl’s hips the moment she was within his grasp and pulled her up exactly where he wanted her. “You can clean me off afterwards, darlin’.”

This was a welcome change to Y/N as she readily mounted him, reaching her arms around his neck for stability and engulfing him with a swift seat of her hips over his. She was practiced at this and started at a brisk rhythm. Their heated skin brushed down below at their thighs and pressed them together chest-to-chest while they kept lidded gazes burning into the other’s face, drinking in each other’s impassioned expressions. It was indelicate and impatient, forcing their breaths to soon become labored enough that they had to breathe through their fallen-open mouths. Jimmy was forgotten for the moment and Robert wondered if perhaps they should keep things this way, since he had been given authority over the evening’s events, but his curious mind was intrigued at the potential of sharing Y/N with the guitarist. 

The breakneck pace was halted with Robert’s firm grip forcing her off and widening his legs a bit further, the slightly lecherous smirk on his lips hinting at what he was expecting now. Y/N positioned herself at her hands and knees, sticking her rear in the air as she leaned her head down. Their gazes remained locked on one another’s while her head cocked to the side, her mouth opened wide, her hand gently held his shaft, and her tongue flatly pressed to his underside in a long trail up to the tip. He watched her at work like it was the most enthralling thing he’d ever seen, only tensing on occasion when she struck a particularly sensitive nerve. Y/N had him halfway down her throat when Jimmy began mirroring her motions from behind and making her jolt in surprise. Now she hummed around Robert, leaning back into the wet, silken lap of the guitarist’s tongue against her. 

“What a view… though I think Y/N can take a little more, given that she enjoys the both of us so thoroughly.” The singer remarked haughtily, earning the surprised glance of Y/N’s eyes back on his. 

“I will fulfill that instruction with pleasure.” Jimmy answered faithfully, widening his grip on Y/N’s hips as he straightened up tall on his knees behind her. 

Y/N foolishly tried bracing herself, knowing in the back of her mind that it was pointless. She could feel him prodding against her core, teasing closer then withdrawing in an attempt at provocation. He wouldn’t receive a plea, though, as Y/N’s mouth was far too occupied to give him a response as she tried taking Robert further while she could. The guitarist slammed right into her and she choked, retreating immediately to clear her throat. She winded up having her face pushed against the singer’s pelvis, the guitarist unrelenting and forcing her to adapt on her own. Her face remained low, simply leaning down to take his balls into her mouth as she couldn’t get back up on her elbows again. 

“Is this what you had in mind, Y/N? Pleasing the both of us at once like this? Or perhaps you’re reconsidering now that you’re experiencing it…” Robert questioned at her faltering.

A fire flashed in her eyes, staring up at him defiantly as her mouth sucked at him harsher and making him shut his impertinent mouth. He whimpered weakly and pulled at her hair, his neck arching back so his head fell upon the headboard. Jimmy cackled quietly at the singer’s poor attempt in challenging the bold Y/N, especially in such a compromising position. He was met with Robert’s glare and a command for all of them to stop, a new plan in his mind. His arms helped him into a lying position on his side, right against Y/N’s rear and slipping a hand around the inside of her thigh, lifting it up so he could slip back into her fluidly. Jimmy received no instruction, but he wasn’t keen on being left out of the fun. He lied at his side too, facing Y/N and positioning his mouth at the level of her dripping center. Her frame was arched back against Robert’s and his arm wasn’t going to let her shift around between positions, giving the guitarist a perfect vantage to attach his mouth to her clit while the singer harshly fucked into her only a few inches lower. 

“Oh fuck!” She cried out desperately, tensed at yet another one of Jimmy’s surprising interventions.

Robert lifted his head slightly to investigate, grinning to himself at how anguish by sheer pleasure Y/N was and his bandmate’s cleverness in enhancing the experience for her. If it wasn’t for the singer’s grip on her leg, she would’ve been thrashing between the two of them in hope of gaining some reprieve from the intense stimulation. But all she could do was express it through agonized cries that replaced her breaths, creating a frenzied song with every emptying of her lungs, and her hands fisting the guitarist’s dark hair as he lay beneath her. It was intense, almost too much for her to handle, but Y/N was swimming in ecstasy and greedily wanted more experiences like these. She only hoped that the two bandmates happened to share her thoughts. 

***********************

Warmth radiated between the three of them as even the aftershocks began to wear off, the slickness of sweat shining over their faces as their eyelids fell heavier over their eyes. Y/N was in between the two of them, feeling their slowing breaths against her skin and being lulled by its gentle sound. Their bodies were still entangled together, just in a much softer way than before. Y/N’s hands reached to each of theirs and kept them clasped near her heart. Robert had his chin resting over her head so he could easily curl around to plant his lips to the crown of her head occasionally, while his arms wrapped loosely over her shoulders. Jimmy’s face was buried into her neck, his swollen lips grazing the skin there while his hands smoothed over her stomach and sides. The time of day and the future of their relationships with each other were unknown, too irrelevant or too heavy of a topic for them to think through with all of their energies so drained.

As close as they came to another confrontation was Y/N’s hushed comment: “That went far better than I thought it would.” 

“Indeed it did, Y/N.” Jimmy muttered against the curve at the base of her neck.

The singer sighed, smoothing his more-available hand over the back of her head, “I’d have to agree with both of you. It was a lot better than I expected. I just hope it wasn’t too rough for you, Y/N?”

She chuckled softly, “No. I think a little practice would make it easier for me to handle but, as I said, I care for the both of you and now I can say that I enjoy pleasing the both of you.” 

“Our little firecracker.” Robert chortled, rousing the other two into laughter as they eased into a comfortable arrangement and fell asleep intertwined.


	158. midnight voyage (jimmy page x fem!reader) - request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: '67/'68-ish Jimmy Page x fem!reader  
> Warnings: nsfw but fairly soft

request: "ok first off ily and you’re amazing for getting so many (rlly good) fics out in like two days, and second, i’ve had this idea for forever ok, so bear with me pls, yardbirds era jimmy and the reader are on their honeymoon to wherever the hell you think jimmy would take her, and he’s never really done anything kinky with her, but he does for the honeymoon and so it’s super filthy but like fluffy at the same time 🥺"

The first few hours began with a drive to Heathrow and a brief flight to Cannes, just short enough not to evoke impatience or misery. I managed to distract his usual in-flight nerves with the joy that was pouring from me, apparently spreading to his own smiling face even as the plane took off. We recounted the ceremony of just hours before in a dreamlike disbelief, leaning against one another and our ring-clad hands intertwined. It had been a somewhat casual ordeal but it allowed for the focus to remain on the union, not any flashy bells and whistles involved with a larger affair, with our closest loved ones in attendance as witnesses. Everyone joined us in a reception party afterwards full of dancing, well-wishing, chatting, eating, and drinking up until the moment that the two of us had to leave for our flight. We figured a short distance would make for the least unpleasant start for a honeymoon and Jimmy refused my offer of Paris as too cliche of a choice, opting for the golden-lit seaside of Cannes instead. He also insisted that there wouldn’t possibly be enough time to see all the sights in a mere two weeks, hinting that we would be spending at least half of those days solely in or very near the hotel.

The sun was setting by the time we arrived, creating a multicolored expressionist painting of the beaches and other scenery. We remained hand-in-hand, a light swing to our arms while we carried our patterned suitcases and navigated our way to the hotel we’d be staying at. It was a charming little place with framed art nouveau prints and intricate white crown molding lining each wall. Fresh-cut flower bouquets brightened up the space and lent a gentle, clean aroma to each room. The rosy hue of the sky outside shaded everything inside with a hint of pink and I could see exactly why La Vie en Rose originated from here if the rest of France had such pretty sunsets. We put aside our suitcases and admired the views outside our large windows, the reflective ocean expanding all the way out to the horizon with sailboats and small motor-boats bobbing in the pier tied to the boardwalks by sturdy ropes.

“Well, how are you enjoying married life thus far?” Jimmy quipped from a few paces behind me.

I turned to face him, still feeling the glow of the setting sun’s warmth on me as I replied: “It’s too soon to tell, we’ve only been like this for… six and a half hours, officially.”

“And yet it took me a fraction of that time since the second we met to know that we’d end up like this.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, reaching a hand to the side of his face as I kissed him and noted the glimmer of my ring as it caught the sun’s rays. He kept his hands low on my back, innocently holding me closer while my own hands drew him flush against me and emboldened his touch to roam lower. It slipped beneath the fairly short hem of my white dress and found its place over my rear again. I chuckled, slowly withdrawing to give him a chance to do as he pleased without the interference of our connected lips. The hands at my hips crept higher, taking the dress’ fabric along with it, until it reached my chest and all that was left was for me to lift my arms for it to be removed. I relished in the look of wide-eyed, but pleased, shock on Jimmy’s face upon seeing what lay beneath the dress: a matching, scant ensemble of white lace hugged comfortably over the contours of my body. 

“Oh you’re lucky I didn’t know about this little secret of yours earlier. I’m not sure there would’ve been a reception…” He remarked, eyes not quite on my face as he continued taking in my new appearance from the feet up. 

“Nothing like that stopping you now.” I reminded him in a sing-song tone and a mischievous smile playing at my lips. 

“Very true, my lady, but I think for now I’d just like to observe for a while longer.” He confessed, positioning me to face him directly by the hips and sitting back at the edge of the sofa. “Turn a little to the left then to the right, if you please.” 

I cocked an eyebrow at him, questioningly turning this way and that per his instructions until he was satisfied. 

“Well?” I remarked, standing amused with my hands on my hips.

He cleared his throat, “I have one more request, but perhaps later. For now, I’d like to ask if you would be willing to try something new, something we haven’t done before together.”

“You can ask me anything, though you might not always get the answer you want.” I reassured him with a half-teasing tone. 

“I would like to share all of my interests with you, and I’d like you to do the same.”

“Alright, are you going to elaborate or do we reveal these things along the way?” 

“Along the way. We’ll voice things as they come to mind.” Jimmy decided, outstretching his hands to me as a signal for me to step closer to him until they were placed over the wider curve of my hips.

His hands slipped to the backside of my knees, a gentle force from them pulling me in towards him and bringing me to kneel at his parted feet. I reached to the fairly plain belt buckle at the center of his sharp black trousers, easily unfastening it and moving him around to my whim while I wrestled the tailored pants off him. While I slid my hands up his thighs, Jimmy unbuttoned his own shirt and slipped it off his shoulders so he sat even more bare than I was. My fingertips traced down the V-ed lines at his low abdomen, following their downwards trail to where my hands found the arch of his upper thighs and pushing them further apart while my lips encircled his leaking tip. With practiced tact, I soon had him whimpering out my name and holding onto me tightly so I couldn’t retreat until he came to a release. Not even he wanted to beat around the bush and be teased endlessly, even with all of the ideas that were in his head.

The guitarist’s hands released me just before he grew too close to the edge, retaining his controlled demeanor in mere seconds with only a flush on his face and a more disheveled nature to his hair that hinted at his previous state. I sat back over my heels, looking back up at him in wait for an instruction that related to the “new experiences” he alluded to before. Figuring that I could get him to talk a lot faster if I rushed him, I got back up to my feet and headed towards the adjoining room with an inviting glance to the still-seated Jimmy. It felt a little bit silly, I’d never really exhibited this level of confidence in trying to be sultry, but something about the whole context and the reactions I got from him reassured me that I must’ve been doing something right. I made a come hither curl of my finger and observed the awed, wide-eyed gaze of his as he rose from his seat as though in a daze to trail after me. 

My short path was slow and I turned my head every so often to catch a glimpse at Jimmy, until the last time I looked forward. He’d taken advantage of the pace and swiftly snuck up behind me when I’d looked away again, his arms wrapping tightly across my back in a vice-like grip. I was swept off my feet, whisked into the room before I could blink, spun around to face him, felt the duvet behind me as I collided against the bed, and fell back propped up only by my elbows with my surprised face meeting Jimmy’s smug one. He leaned over me, looming and making me lie back further in an intimidated evasion, especially when I could feel his hard length against the thin lace covering between my legs. That only made his snickering smile grow wider, the space between us getting smaller and smaller until his body cloaked over mine. He left a lingering kiss at my lips as a promise of more while his attention turned to repositioning us and removing the elegant heeled shoes still on my feet. His touch ran up along my stay-ups, unfastening the clips that held them in place, and slipping them off my legs with my panties soon to follow. All that was left were the garter belt and bra, removed by the both of us working in collaboration to leave the both of us in the same state of dress, or perhaps undress. 

“Aren’t I just the luckiest man on Earth…” He remarked as he leaned back over me, his lips barely brushing against my collarbone and his dark lashes nearly resting over his cheeks while his eyelids drooped in bliss. “The things I want to do to- no, with you.” 

“Tell me, or show me, Jimmy.” I encouraged, combing my fingers through the thick wavy hair at the crown of his head.

His jade gaze looked to me, a constant ask for permission, as he roamed lower over my upper torso with parted swollen lips. They grazed over the curve of my breast, opening wider so his teeth could gently attach to my nipple and tug at it gradually with the tilt of his head until he released it. This was the introduction to what he meant before -- the experimentation with a different kind of interaction than we shared before. My curiosity was roused as he repeated the motion on the opposite side, slightly rougher this time, and maintained a close observation of my face to gauge my reaction to this. I was arching into his touch already, the pleased darkness over his usually light irises making me enjoy the new sensation even more. 

“Mmm… harder, Jimmy.” I insisted, my fingers tugging at his hair as though it would deliver my message more effectively as my breaths fell into deeper cycles.

He was more than happy to oblige, digging his fingers into my hips while he bit down harder and tugged at my nipple for longer before releasing it. My inhaled breaths turned to gasps -- I was surprised at how much pleasure I could receive from something that simultaneously caused a twinge of pain. As he began to drift back up along my neck, my ankles crossed behind his back as a tactic to ensure that he couldn’t slip away and deprive me of his touch. His bite met the skin of my neck now, his mouth enclosing and suckling over one area until I whimpered at the feeling of a dull sting under my skin. Another one of these rough kisses was planted right under my jaw, then another at the very base of my neck, and a final one at the center. My skin tingled as though it had been very lightly electrified by him and I looked to him when he finally paused. 

“Whatever you just did, I loved it.” I confessed.

“Good, I plan on marking you up quite a bit more.” 

“Mark?”

“It hurts a little doesn’t it?” 

I nodded, slightly perplexed.

“They’re bruises, they’ll appear quite a bit darker when you see them again in the morning.” 

“I see what you meant now about not leaving the room.” 

“That’s only a small part of it, darling. Let me show you what else I meant.” He hinted sinisterly, leaning his face down to drag his lips down the center of my torso until they reached my navel.

I could feel the start of another mark over the skin, his fingers mischievously delving into me and finding the sensitive point of my wall with practiced dexterity while his mouth worked its way closer to them. My face turned into the pillows as if seeking shelter from the intensity of everything I was feeling, the lash of his tongue on my clit before he took it into his mouth nearly pushing me over the edge. I bit back any sharp noise from escaping between my lips and tried holding myself back as much as I could from the inevitable crash of the building wave within me. My body felt like it was burning up, rising to a feverish temperature, until suddenly everything stopped with the sharp withdrawal and smack of a hand over my pulsing core. Having been half-mast before, my eyes were now wide open as I stared at Jimmy. The hand that delivered the blow came back down and circled harshly over where it’d just been, like it was trying to soothe away the sting it caused. I helplessly writhed into its motions. 

“Can I do that again or was that a bit much?” Jimmy questioned.

“Do it again.” I replied instantly, no waver or hesitation in my voice. 

“Damn, if I’d known you would be this open-minded I would’ve made sure to bring along some proper paraphernalia.” 

“You really shouldn’t have kept such a secret from me, then you would’ve known far sooner.” 

He delivered another jolting smack, making me cry out as he explained: “That was for your insolence.”

My teeth bit my lip to avoid smiling, both of us knowing that I was completely right and that Jimmy just wanted to shield himself from seeming ashamed or exposing such an intimate interest. But my smugness didn’t go unnoticed by the perceptive Jimmy, who swiftly smacked me again. Only this time, I anticipated it and merely gave him a satisfied hum rather than a startled wail. Any pulsating sting or dull pain was melting into pleasure the more I experienced it, I only wondered if Jimmy could possibly be feeling as good as I did. But given that this was his request and the arousal he was clearly displaying, my uncertainty faded. He seemed to enjoy pleasing others and proving his talents, being in control yet entirely by the desires of the other person. 

“Jimmy, why don’t you let me have a turn?” I piped up. 

“You don’t like this?” He glanced, a slight intimidation written on his face.

“No, no, I do. In fact, so much that I want to thank you for it and make you feel good.”

He smiled endearingly, “Darling, you’re so sweet to me. I couldn’t refuse a single thing to you, I’m at your service.” 

His retreat back into a seated position gave me space to sit up myself, not bothering to have him switch places with me as I shifted around into a kneel and leaned over low at his thighs. He reclined back, propped up by his arms in a casual manner while he observed me intently. There were a few things I wanted to try too, not anything by a particular salacious title but just different approaches. Perhaps it was the occasion or the discussion of widened possibilities, either way I wanted to bring him into something he hadn’t felt before as a mirror to his method. I grazed my parted lips across his thighs, a featherlight tickle over his skin, then cautiously roamed up to the V-ed lines of his hips and the flat expanse of his navel. The muscles below tensed at my delicate touch, having experienced enough teasing from earlier, and I saw Jimmy’s confidently stern expression waver when I came around to the length of his cock. 

I didn’t take him into my mouth, instead just mouthing and pressing loose kisses along the skin then working lower to give his balls the same treatment. My fingertips massaged slightly into the inner arches at the top of his thighs, just a few inches off from where my mouth was on each side. The look on his face displayed how tormenting it was after a few minutes, the touch of my mouth never quite enough to bring him any sense of satisfaction. He refrained, however, from forcing any of my actions and patiently let me have my way with him. But I granted him a little reprieve as I took just the head into my mouth and sucked until my cheeks hollowed in around him, feeling a shift under the slight movement of my tongue. I’d noticed it before, a second skin that would move by the push and pull of my hands or mouth, but didn’t take it into individual consideration for something that could evoke a stronger stimulation for him until now. Concentrating my efforts, I began to pull the thin layer of skin up with my lips slowly and gently urging higher while my eyes looked to his face for a reaction, testing the effect this new technique had on him. 

The look on his face had gone from strained to overwhelmed -- his eyes shut tight, his jaw dropped wide open, his cheeks almost burning a rose red, his head tilted back as far as it could go -- while low rumbles hummed from his throat, growing into louder cries while I went higher, and his hands were white-knuckled from fisting the duvet so harshly. It was an empowering sight to behold when I’d never seen him so deeply impacted in a balance between torment and orgasmic release. Every part of him was completely tense, I could feel it like a dam about to burst within my mouth. 

“Bloody- fuck! Y/N, shit, wh-what the hell…” He snarled through a labored voice until a deeper erratic breath helped him form a more comprehensible sentence: “If you don’t stop… I’m gonna c.”

My gaze didn’t shy away from his, a silent acceptance of his threat, and I continued to tease the foreskin with my tongue gliding across it. A high whine was cut short in his throat the moment that the white heat of release poured over his buzzing senses, continuing the sound but as a far lower groan when sticky streams of cum shot into my mouth.

“Ohhh shit....” He whined, his eyes finally blinking open again. 

I drew my head back up slowly, gradually letting him slip from my mouth since he was already overpowered by stimulation.

He exhaled heavily and winced when I released him, both of us leaning back to catch our breath as he inquired: “How- ? Where the hell did you learn something like that?”

I shrugged, “Following your lead in trying something new.” 

A pride gleamed in his eyes and he reached a hand along the side of my cheek, “How talented you are.”

I leaned forward on my hands to kiss the corner of Jimmy’s open mouth, his arms loosely encapturing my frame into place against him and making me lean into his shoulder. His chin rested over my head for a moment and I felt his voice vibrating against me as he spoke while his hand gently ran along my back: “How are you feeling, Y/N? Not too drained of energy yet?” 

“No, I think I’m more awake now than I was when we first landed. How about you?” 

His lips pressed to the top of my head, “Never felt better. Are you up for a bit more?”

My lips reached to kiss the curve of his shoulder, “I’m up for anything you want.”

His arms slipped away as he prepared to move again, “I’ll have to apologize again for the lack of proper… equipment, if you like.”

I smiled once I sat up again, my eyes following his soft barefoot steps across the floor to his suitcase and then back to me when he’d taken two of his colorful scarves in hand. There was no hesitation or uncertain perplexion within me anymore. My mind felt put at ease even as I didn’t know what was going to happen, I wholly trusted him and felt more than welcoming towards testing out new things. I was eager and evidently so, my apparent enthusiasm bringing a grin to Jimmy’s face upon seeing how instantly I reacted to his request for me to bring forward my arms. The first of the scarves was folded thinner, drawn over my eyes, and tied up at the back of my head. I felt the other looped around my outstretched wrists just tightly enough so I couldn’t break free of it. A hand at the small of my back and another at my shoulder urged me to lie down, my arms being pulled over my head by the wrists. 

“Is this alright?” His voice questioned softly from somewhere near me.

I nodded, already feeling a pleasant cluelessness taking hold of my mind as it began to wander. Not being able to see him, I could only rely on my other senses to estimate where he was or what he was doing. The slightest noise made me try to pinpoint where he was standing, though the feeling of his hands over my ankles told me that he hadn’t stepped away at all. He parted them, each to one side of the mattress. I felt the bed dip between my knees and knew that he was kneeled over me -- knowing that he was very close from the tickle of his breath over my skin as well as the radiating body heat from above my own frame. A swift rush ran through my veins upon the warm sensations, only turning my wonder into a frenzy as I waited for him to touch me already. 

It began with only his blistered fingertips -- running along my sides, under the curve of my breasts, and up the backs of my arms -- like the slightly rough texture of tulle against my skin. It was like my sense of touch had been heightened to the utmost level of sensitivity. Quiet whimpers helplessly fell from between my lips and I easily arched into his hands, hoping that I could garner a little more friction from him. He removed his hands, giving me a moment of recovery before pressing his lips to all the places that he left bruises upon before and reviving the dull sting of each one. I kept myself quieter and more under control, earning the grasp of his hands on my hips before letting it roam to my rear. They slid back over the front of my thighs and sought to give me the friction I’d been so desperate for, instantly making me push into the circling touch of his fingers between my thighs. 

“Are you ready, Y/N?” He asked softly, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You certainly feel like it.”

“Please, Jimmy.” I answered faintly.

There came the press of his tip, delving just the tiniest bit into the slickness of my folds and massaging a hand over the curve of my hip. There came a push from him, making the both of us hum out a low moan and our midsections tilt into the other’s. It felt so much stronger than before and yet all I wanted was -- more contact, more friction, more of anything he would give me and I was more than willing to try taking it selfishly on my own if he wasn’t going to oblige. It was a boldness I hadn’t felt before but it was invigorating me into action, especially with the restraint of my arms limiting how much I could reach him. Jimmy seemed pleasantly surprised or at least somehow delighted at my new vigor, cutting through any desire to tease and giving me exactly what I was asking for. 

We were both still riding out the remnants of highs from before, hurtling us towards the edge of another crash now that we were finally connected this way. I engulfed him within me but was unable to grasp at anything to brace myself at the immense depth and wild pace of his own thrusts into me with the kneading dig of his fingers into the flesh of my ass to draw me even closer into him. The protruding hip bones colliding against my own were bruising, though I couldn’t feel any pain from it -- the intensity of pleasure far outweighing it and only threatening to get stronger with every stroke. My body felt ablaze, like I would burn in pursuit of that one final crash of release over me but I didn’t care as long as I attained it. Based on the loudening volume and rising pitch of his voice, it was clear that the same thought was running through Jimmy’s mind before I even felt him forcing himself into an impossibly harsher pace. 

“Y/N, please…” He breathed out barely-coherently, “...tell me you’re close.”

“Y-Yeah, please don’t stop.” I answered in one short exhale.

He gritted his teeth, pushing his curt commands for me to let go already through them. My body was thrashing as all of my muscles tensed, unable to move as freely with my arms restrained and still meeting each of Jimmy’s sloppying movements. My breaths were voiced into an erratic song, continuing despite the hoarse scratch developing in my throat. Everything rose into a peak: both of our voices booming through the room, our bodies on their final dregs of energy and yet moving ever harder, the ascent of the orgasm teetering into a climax to burning out the capabilities of our senses. Then it hit. A final few slowing motions and quieting breaths signifying the descent through the clarity of the crash. Aftershocks still pulsed with the rhythm of our pounding heartbeats as we parted, for the last time that night. My arms had somehow managed to break free of their manacles, the cloth loose around my wrists as I was now free to move them. I first used them to remove the blindfold, using my reacquired vision to spot exactly where a flushed Jimmy was kneeling weakly and reaching to pull him in towards me. 

The guitarist shifted to my grasp without resistance, lying down beside me as both of us eased back into a normal heart and breath rate. The heat of our bodies was tolerable again, not burning, though we were both glistening with sweat. His eyes were half-mast from exhaustion and he reached a hand to smooth along the back of my head as his other hand pulled me in closer to him by my waist. My head nestled into his shoulder and I draped an arm across his chest, gazing upwards towards his pink-tainted face with an easy smile on his lips. Adoration filled my heart and I was again reminded of the morning’s events -- we were bound to one another, officially and as long as fate granted us. Only now did I notice the pitch darkness of the room as night had long fallen since we started. 

“I hope we’re this energetic when we get back.” I quipped once I caught up my breath and just before a sleepiness started weighing on my eyelids.

“Why’s that? You want to try some of this again with the real things?”

“Well, of course, but I meant that we’re going to have to move all of our things together. Our joint book collections are going to be large enough to fill a proper library, can you imagine how long it’s going to take for us to lay them all out?”

“Shh…” He insisted, wincing at the thought. “We’ll worry about that later, let’s just enjoy not having to do a single thing, together, here, for now.”


End file.
